


You're Mine

by littlestarofthewest (sternchencas)



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Arthur/male reader, Blow Jobs, First Time Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, Light Angst, M/M, Minor come play, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Semi-Public Sex, Smut, canon compliant depiction of violence, short lived reader panic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-14
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2020-10-18 16:21:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 30,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20642093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sternchencas/pseuds/littlestarofthewest
Summary: You're hanging around the saloon, waiting for someone to finally pop your cherry, when you suddenly run into a lot more cowboy than you can handle. What happens next is so much more than you've ever imagined in your wildest dreams.





	1. Bored

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fic I publish in this fandom, and I've never written reader inserts before, so please be gentle ;)
> 
> I might turn this into a series/multi-chapter thing if there's enough interest.  
Update: I have so much fun with this, that it's definitely getting longer.

Although you're not much of a drinker, you come to the saloon almost every night now. You can't think of another way to get what you want. Nursing a beer as slowly as you can, you take a look around the room for suitable men.

There are the usual farmers and drunkards, and the same poker players as every night. Two travelers are hunched over their meals, shoveling the food into their mouths as if they haven't eaten for days. A working girl passes you buy, making a weak attempt to get you upstairs, but quickly turns her attention to somebody else.

You think that the girls in here must have figured you out by now. You have at least a little money, so either you're not interested in sex at all, or you don't care about what they have to offer.

It took you a while to understand it yourself, but you know now that breasts and pussies don't do it for you. Girls are lovely, but what gets your blood pumping are broad shoulders, beards, and a whole lot of dick. So far, you can only tell by looking, though.

You're not exactly the loud and proud type, and it's hard enough for you to speak to strangers at all. Finding one who's interested in taking it a few steps further with you seems downright impossible.

Putting your empty beer bottle down on the table, you think about leaving. As you back away from the bar, you hit something solid. Warm, steady hands touch your hips, holding you in place. "Behind you, mister," a deep voice says so close behind you that it sends a shiver down your spine.

Your head snaps around, and the man who's been holding you takes a step around you before letting go and lifting his hands. "Excuse me."

"It's alright," you say out of habit, and the man moves on, leaving you with a racing heart and a tingling feeling in your lower belly.

Doing your best not to stare openly, you try to get a better look at the man. He's walking over to two other men, making you wonder why you haven't spotted them before. One of them is smaller, with black hair, his clothes hugging his lean form, and his hat drawn deep into his face. He's chatting away in a Mexican accent. The other one is tall and muscular with long hair and an air about him as if nothing could shake him. They're both handsome as hell, making you wonder how that's fair.

And then there's the stranger who touched you. He's tall as well, with broad shoulders and a beard that looks a little grown out. As he takes a beer bottle from one of the others, it almost disappears in his huge hand, and you find yourself staring after all as he brings the bottle to his full lips to take a swig.

Your eyes fall on his muscular arms, filling out his shirt in an obscene show of strengths. It doesn't seem as much as a choice, but more like there are no clothes which could give him more room. His jeans sit just as tight, and you're a little annoyed at the gunbelt around his hips since it blocks the view.

It takes a lot of effort for you to tear your eyes away and you order another beer. At least you can get something out of this night. Those men are precisely what haunts your dreams, and now you can look your fill and let them enter your fantasies later when you're at home.

Lucky for you, the three men stay at the bar, drinking, talking, and laughing together. They stand close, bumping shoulders at a joke or clapping each other's backs. They look so comfortable with each other that it makes you ache. It's not only that you can't find somebody to have sex with, but you're also just missing any intimacy altogether. That stranger holding your hips for a few seconds was the best thing that happened to you ever since you found out about your interest in men.

Trying your best to stay invisible, you sneak glances over to them, taking in as much detail as you can from across the room until someone leans against the bar next to you and blocks the view. "You're not holding a grudge, are you?"

The voice sends another shiver down your spine, and the sudden closeness of the stranger takes your breath away. You stare into his bright blue eyes, frozen on the spot. "Excuse me?" you manage to say, barely louder than a whisper.

"Well," the stranger says, running a hand over his lovely beard, drawing your attention to two faded scars on his chin, "you keep looking at me, and I can't tell if you're angry or if it's something else."

You swallow hard, not liking at all that he caught you staring. "I'm sorry, mister, I was looking around, you know? I was-"

You struggle to find a good reason. You can't tell him that you're horny as hell and look forward to fantasizing about him later as you get yourself off. He raises his brows, waiting for an answer.

"Bored," you finally manage to say.

Propping his elbow up on the bar, he leans against it and watches you intently. "Bored, hu?"

"Yes."

Unlike you, the man lets his eyes wander openly up and down your body. As burning heat takes hold of you, he leans a little closer. "I'm Arthur. What's your name?"

For a moment, you struggle to remember; then you blurt it out like a curse. "Y/N. It's Y/N."

"Y/N," Arthur repeats, and the way he lets it roll around in his mouth has you holding on to the bar. "I'm bored, too. Maybe we can help each other out."

The way he emphasizes the word makes it clear that he doesn't believe your lie at all. With your heart beating like a drum, you manage a weak, "How?"

A little smile plays along Arthur's lips, and he pushes himself up from the bar, leaning in so close that you can smell him. His scent makes you think of leather and gunpowder, campfires and horses, open prairie and the air heavy with rain. You wish you could bury your face against his chest and stay there forever.

"How about you come outside with me?" Arthur suggests, his voice even deeper than before, laced with something that makes you tingly all over.

"Alright," you say without thinking.

Of course, it's not a good idea to go with a stranger, but right now, you don't even care if he's going to rob or murder you. If you get a moment alone with him, it'll be worth it.

You stagger outside, feeling Arthur's presence behind you. As soon as you're out of the door, his hand finds your back, and he steers you around the building into a dark side alley. Your heart hammers as he grabs your shoulders and presses you against the wall. You look at him out of big eyes, ready to do anything he wants.

Arthur moves his hand to your chin, holding your face as he takes a closer look. "You sure are a pretty one," he says, his thumb running softly over your lips.

The words, the touch, all of it makes you dizzy. Then, Arthur licks his lips and kisses you. His lips are soft and warm against your own, and his beard feels nice against your skin. He takes his time at first, breathing more light kisses against your lips.

This is nothing new for you. After all, you've been a teenager, and you kissed a girl here and there behind a barn. What you're not prepared for is the way Arthur's large hands grab your hips again. He pulls you closer while pressing you against the wall with his whole body, and by God, there's so much of him.

Licking his way into your mouth, Arthur holds you in place, his crotch pressing against your own. You buck your hips without meaning to, and heat shoots threw your body as you feel his cock hard against your own. Overwhelmed by the sensation, you moan against his lips, and he groans in response.

Deepening the kiss and grinding against you, Arthur makes your knees go weak, and you have no idea how you got from never being kissed by a man to this so quickly. He pulls away, fixing you with a blue stare. "How about you turn around for me, boy?"

Despite the question, it sounds a lot like a command and fear grabs hold of you. You want this, you really do. Arthur is the man of your dreams, but the way he carries himself and how he's manhandling you is suddenly too much. You have no idea what you're doing, and you're sure that you're not ready for whatever he's asking of you.

"No," you say, the panic audible in your voice.

Arthur draws back a little, watching you intently. "Tell me what you want then."

You know you want him, but as inexperienced as you are, you have no idea what you like or dislike and how much of anything you can handle. The thought of asking anything of him out loud is just as terrifying as letting him do whatever he wants.

With horror, you feel your face growing hot, tears welling up in your eyes. Arthur's expression changes, and he takes another step back. "What is it?"

"I want this, I really do," you blurt out, afraid that he might leave. "Just never- I've never done that before."

"Never done what?" Arthur asks, clearly at a loss.

You take a deep breath, ready to accept that he'll leave as soon as he knows. "Never been with a man before. At all."

"Jesus," Arthur curses, and you look into the ground, waiting for him to go. Instead, he takes a step closer again. "I'm sorry. Didn't mean to go at you like that, but I thought you knew what you was getting into."

You look up, surprised that he apologized for something that wasn't his mistake in the first place. Arthur takes another step closer and carefully wipes stray tears from your cheeks. Holding your face in a gentle grip, he smiles. "Now, let's start over, alright?"

You nod, hope blooming in your chest. If Arthur hasn't run yet, you might still have a chance to get what you want at last.

"You didn't mind the kissing, right?" Arthur asks, and you nod again.

"No, that was nice."

"Good. Come here then," he coos and you find yourself leaning in without hesitation.

Arthur moves one hand to your neck, but it's a light touch, and his other hand wanders down your back. His kisses are even softer now. He's not taking what he wants but teases you to come and get what you need.

At first, you like to take it slow, but your pants are getting uncomfortably  
tight just from the kissing, and you long for more. Like a light going on in your head, you remember that you have hands as well, and instead of just holding onto his shirt, you dare to let them wander over his body.

Just like Arthur's beard, his hair is on the side of a little too long. You run your hands through it, surprised by the softness. Then, your fingers trail down his neck and along his broad shoulders before you run them down his chest. Arthur's all muscle, and you imagine how easy it would be for him to pick you up or turn you around. The thought without the actual threat of it happening is intoxicating, and you moan against his lips as your cock twitches with interest.

Arthur chuckles. "Good?"

You can't manage more than a sound but press your crotch against his as an answer, and he moves with you as you roll your hips. Your kisses get more passionate with the touch, and you dare to move your hands to his back, making your way deeper and deeper until you can grab his ass and pull him closer.

While that feels nice at first, you begin to think that you need more. Not sure how to ask, you buck your hips again, and all you manage is a whining, "Arthur, please."

"You want me to touch you?" he asks, and you hastily nod, the mere thought making your cock twitch again.

Still holding onto your neck with one hand, he moves his other hand between your legs, kissing you while he presses his palm against the bulge in your pants. You moan again, and he freezes for a moment as if to keep himself in check. "You want to open your pants for me?"

You swallow hard at the thought of Arthur touching your bare skin, but you let go off him to make quick work of the buttons on your pants.

"Let me see you," Arthur says, and you pull your cock out eagerly, happy about the instructions.

Maybe you should have more pride or any backbone to speak of, but you're somewhat used to following orders, and it's something you're good at. It feels nice to be able to do what Arthur asks. He looks down on you, and your heart seems to beat out of your chest. It occurs to you how exposed you are, in a side alley, in front of a stranger.

"I'll touch you now," Arthur says, his breath ghosting over you as he speaks, "but if anything doesn't feel right, you tell me right away."

You nod eagerly, but he keeps staring into your eyes. "Repeat it to me."

"If anything doesn't feel right, I'll tell you right away," you say and something in Arthur's eyes shifts. You feel very much like prey.

"Good boy," Arthur says, the praise making you shiver.

Arthur leans in again, kissing you until you forget what you've been worried about in the first place. Arthur runs his hand down your chest and your stomach, easing you into the touch. It feels nice, and you're relieved when his hand finally closes around your cock. At first, he lets it sit in his hand as if to measure the weight before running his fingers along your length.

You always thought that you knew how a hand on your cock felt like, after all, you pleasured yourself more than was probably good for you. Arthur's touch is nothing like that.

Every brush, pull, and squeeze is so much better than anything you've ever felt before. Arthur runs his hand down between your legs and cups your balls, rolling them carefully in his fingers and huffing a small laugh as you moan again. "Aren't you the sweetest?" he hums, his hand closing around your cock again. "So sensitive."

Arthur's hand moves up and twists a little at the top, eliciting another moan from you. At that, he's going back to kissing you and becomes a lot more daring. With a tighter grip, he pumps your cock in a slow rhythm, twisting at the end and running his thumb over your slit through a drop of precome.

All you can do by now is holding onto Arthur. While you know that you should be terrified, it turns you on even more that he has so much control over you. As his hand moves faster, you bite back more moans, but as soon as he notices, he forces your lips apart with a sloppy kiss. "Let me hear you, boy."

You moan obediently, closing your eyes while you know that he's watching you with that intense gaze. Your hips buck against your will, and you fuck eagerly into the enclosure of Arthur's large hand. Where you are and who else could hear you suddenly don't matter anymore. All you want is more of Arthur's touch and to please him, to get to hear more of his praise.

Suddenly, Arthur lets go of you, and you whine in frustration, making him chuckle. "Just a second," he says.

Without warning, he grabs your hands and lifts your arms over your head, pinning them in place.

"Arthur," you whisper, a sudden fear creeping up on you.

He holds your gaze, calm as a person can be.

"You want to be a good boy for me, don't you?" he asks.

Arthur steps closer, his hand trailing along your cheek and down your throat, his fingertips leaving your skin burning. His hand runs over your stomach and down to your cock, a promise that he'll do right by you if you give him the answer he wants.

"Yes," you breathe out, and remembering what he asked of you earlier, you force yourself to say more. "I want to- to be a good boy for you."

Arthur bites his lip, a growl sounding deep in his throat. He presses himself against your side, grounding you while you're even more exposed to the world around you. "Remember," he says, "you tell me if something's wrong."

"Yes, sir."

You're not quite sure where that came from, but Arthur growls and buries his face against your neck. "Goddammit boy, you're perfect."

Your heart sings at the praise while Arthur begins to lick and bite your neck, his hand back at your cock. He makes quick work of you now, with a tight grip and a relentless rhythm that has you moaning and bucking your hips as much as possible while he's pressing you against the wall with his body.

Never in your wildest dreams did you imagine anything like this and your body is tense like it's never been before. You feel like the string on a bow, ready to be released at any second. Arthur still keeps teasing you, biting your neck, pumping your cock, and whispering sweet words. It becomes a storm of sensations, and you find yourself straining against the hand that holds up your arms, eager to touch Arthur.

He doesn't let you. Despite your best efforts, you can't get out of Arthur's grip. He's too strong, in control, he can do whatever he wants with you. "Arthur, please," you beg, not sure for what exactly, but he must know. He will give you what you need.

"You wanna come for me, boy?" he asks.

"Yes, yes, please," you moan, desperate to finally get rid of the overwhelming tension.

You can feel Arthur's tight grip around your cock, making you think that he could easily break you if he wanted to. His lips touch your ear, his voice so close now as if he's speaking right to your soul. "You're such a good boy. So goddamn perfect."

You buck like a wild horse, making sounds that are not quite moans anymore. It should be embarrassing, but you've never felt so good before, so wanted. Arthur runs his hands along your whole lengths with long, hard strokes, and you wait for him to release you.

"Come for me, boy," he growls, and the words rush through your heated body, right into your cock.

Every muscle in your body tenses, your balls shrinking as your come shoots out of your cock in hot spurts. You're not sure if you're moaning or not, your head leaning back against the wall as your mouth hangs open.

You're completely lost to the world, and Arthur finally releases your hands. They feel a little numb, but you still grab his shirt and hold on to him, focusing on your breath to knock some sense back into yourself.

Once you're ready to look at Arthur, you find him watch you, and somehow it's comforting rather than embarrassing.

"You alright?" he asks. You nod although you're not sure if you can even stand without his body supporting you. He smiles and lifts his hand to your mouth. "Then you better clean that up."

Arthur's fingers are covered with some of your come, and although you're all spent, the sight still makes your cock twitch. You lean forward and lick your come off him, sucking two of his fingers into your mouth that are completely covered. He sucks in a sharp breath beside you, and it takes you a moment to realize what you just did.

It makes you think of Arthur's cock and what it would be like to touch him, to take him into your mouth. If you weren't so weak, you might have thought about dropping to your knees, but then Arthur takes his hand away from your mouth, wiping it against the side of his pants.

"I fear I have to go back to my friends," he says.

"No," you blurt out, and as he looks at you in surprise, you tuck at his shirt. "I haven't done anything for you."

Arthur laughs. "Oh, you've done plenty. Gonna think of you before I fall asleep, that's for sure."

He pulls you in for another kiss and warmth pools in your chest. It's not heated like before but sweet and comforting. Without a word, Arthur helps you to tuck yourself back into your pants and closes your buttons when you're fingers are still too numb to do it properly.

When you make your way back out of the alley, he looks over to you. "You good?"

"Ask me tomorrow when I can think again," you say.

It's just a silly expression. After all, you're sure Arthur's only passing through town, and there's no way you'll see him again.

"Sure, tomorrow then," Arthur says.

You stop dead in your tracks. "Are you serious?"

"I'm here for a couple of days," Arthur says in a light tone. "Can't hurt to teach you a few things, so you're prepared for the next horny fool who jumps you without thinking."

"It wasn't your fault," you insist, but Arthur cups your cheek with his hand.

"Should've known, with a sweet one like you."

You slap his hand away, trying your best to give him a mean stare. "Maybe  
I'm not that sweet."

"I guess we'll find out." Arthur leans in, his voice a deep rumble that makes you shiver with anticipation. "Looking forward to tomorrow."

You want to say more, but another deep voice travels through the alley. "Arthur? You there?"

"On my way, Charles!" Arthur shouts to the end of the alley before putting a hand on your back. "Come on, let's go."

Back on the main street are the two other men, both already mounted on their horses. Another huge horse is standing beside them, and Arthur pulls himself onto its back while the smaller man eyes you with interest.

"You have a lovely voice, cielo," he says, his voice sweet as honey.

It dawns on you how loud you've been with Arthur, and you wish that the ground would open up and swallow you whole.

"Leave him alone, Javier," Arthur grunts, riding up next to him.

"What?" Javier says, winking at you with a smile. "He's pretty. You can't keep all the pretty ones to yourself."

"I don't keep all of them, just this one. He's mine," Arthur says, the possessiveness in his voice tightening your pants again.

Javier rolls his eyes. "Let's go, Charles," he says, but gives you a wink before riding off.

Charles gives you a nod before following him and Arthur rides up to you. Out of habit, you pat the horse, looking up to him. "What did he call me? Cielo?"

"Uh, yeah," Arthur says, shrugging. "I think it means something like sweetheart. He says that to everybody if he wants to score."

"But I'm yours?" you say, turning it into a question.

Arthur leans over his horse to come closer to you. "Yes, you're mine. If you want to be."

"Maybe," you tease and Arthur gets that look again, promising that he'll stalk his prey if he has to.

"You'll be here tomorrow," he says. It's not a question.

"Yes, sir."

Arthur smiles. "Good boy."

He clicks his tongue, and the horse gets in motion immediately, just as obedient as you are. It makes you wonder if Arthur's ever going to ride you as well.


	2. Taking A Ride

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first chapter was so much fun that I was inspired to write more. Hope you enjoy :)

This might very well be the dumbest idea you've ever had, but you don't have much time to think about it. If Arthur holds true to his word, you'll see him again tonight, and this time you want to be the one to do him some good, no matter what he says.

Greg, the barkeeper, keeps sweeping the floor as you walk into the saloon. "Little early for you, don't you think?"

You have a feeling that the man likes you, probably because you're one of his best customers. He stepped in a few times when someone at the bar was trying to give you trouble.

"Any chance Dolly is around?" you ask.

Greg raises his eyebrows in surprise. You've always turned down the working girls, and now you come in in the middle of the day, asking for one in particular. It must seem very odd.

"Up the stairs," Greg says with a shrug, "the last door on the right. I reckon she's there but might have missed her going out."

"Thank you," you say, making your way upstairs.

You head right for the last door and knock. After a moment, Dolly opens. "Damit Greg, I-"

She stares at you with big eyes, and you can't help staring back. Dolly looks very different without her makeup. Her hair falls down over her shoulders in waves. It seems a lot longer now that it's not done up.

"Hello," you force out. "It's Dolly, right?"

"Well, look at you. Pretty boy gives me the cold shoulder for weeks, and now he comes calling in the middle of the day."

Dolly's tone and behavior are still the same, even without her usual get up. It's intimidating, and you wring your hands, thinking about how to tell her what you want. "I have sort of a special request."

"Oh, honey," Dolly laughs, "all men do."

"This one's different. Trust me."

Dolly narrows her eyes, but then she opens the door up with a sigh. "Fine, you got me curious. Come in."

She takes a seat and gestures for you to do the same. After you close the door, you sit down, your heart pounding again. There's no way to get through this without making a complete fool of yourself.

"See, I'm not here for sex. Well, not exactly."

Dolly lights herself a cigarette, her eyes taking you in from head to toe. "Yeah, no surprise there. You're more into the fellas, aren't you?"

"I- How do you-?" you stammer. Even if you suspected the girls to know, it still feels weird to talk about it like that.

"Just tell me what you need, honey. Believe me, I probably heard it before."

You take a deep breath. Dolly's obviously not judging you, and you trust that she can keep a secret. It'll be foolish to stop now so close to your goal. "I don't have much experience. I know I want to do some things, with- with a man, but I'm not sure how."

"Things? Like what?"

"I don't know," you say, although you imagined a lot of things that you wanted to do with Arthur last night. "I just need to know how to please him."

"Him, huh?" Dolly smiles. "So you have somebody in mind."

"Yeah, I guess."

Suddenly Dolly sits up straight, clapping her hands to her thighs. "Wait! You was talking to that bear of a man yesterday. Brown hair, beard, great ass. Him?"

You can't speak, but you feel your face growing redder by the second. Dolly puts out her cigarette before grabbing your hand with a smile. "I'm gonna show you how to please him, alright. Don't you worry, boy."

* * *

By the time evening rolls around, you're already exhausted. After your lesson with Dolly, you take a bath in the saloon. Then, you try on all the shirts you have to find the right one and talk to yourself in the mirror, before changing your pants for the third time.

You only make it out of the door because you're afraid to miss Arthur if you don't get a move on. You're about to go into the saloon when you hear a familiar voice. "Hey, Y/N."

Just like the day before, the way Arthur says your name sends a shiver down your spine. You step to the side to let two men behind you pass while waiting for Arthur to come to you. He takes the three small steps in front of the door in stride and puts his hand to the wall next to you, standing so close that you can feel the warmth radiating from him in the chilly evening air.

"Listen, I'm sorry, but I won't be able to stay," Arthur says.

Your heart drops with disappointment, and it must show on your face. Arthur comes even closer, running his fingers over the top buttons of your shirt. "Wish I could, believe me, but I have to get a friend out of jail."

"Jail?" you blurt out in surprise and hate yourself when Arthur takes a step back.

"Yeah, well, getting locked up tends to happen in our line of work."

Thinking back to yesterday, it makes a lot of sense. The two men Arthur was with didn't look much like farmers, and there must be a reason he runs around with two guns while having a drink. You just didn't think about that before, too occupied with ogling them.

"Where are you going then?" you ask, desperate to keep him there just a bit longer.

"Small town called Armadillo. I'm just waiting for the stagecoach."

"Oh, I know it. Can I come?"

Arthur stares at you in shock, then he takes another step away from you. "No!"

"Why not?"

"I ain't going there to pay his bounty, you understand? It'll be dangerous."

You can't say that you've been in a lot of shootouts in your life, but you know how to hold your own. "I'm a hunter, you know? That's my job. I know how to handle a gun."

"Shooting animals," Arthur huffs.

"I didn't say that I wanted to shoot somebody. I just asked to come along."

"And I said no," Arthur grunts. "End of discussion."

Even worse than his tone is the fact that he just walks away. Anger rises in your chest, and another plan forms in your mind that you might regret. Still, you walk after him with enough distance to not be spotted. You didn't practice with Dolly all morning just to be alone again tonight.

* * *

"Alright, get in, and then we'll be on our way," the coach driver says, tugging away your money.

Your fingers shake as you open the door. Arthur is sitting inside, but he doesn't look up, taking notes in a journal instead. You climb inside and sit down next to him. That finally turns his head.

You can see the fury in his eyes even before he slaps the journal shut and turns his whole body to you. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Driving to Armadillo," you say, your throat dry, but you relentlessly stare at him, not ready to give in.

Arthur stares at you open-mouthed, before finally shaking his head, the fire in him dying down. "Care to explain why?"

"You said we'd see each other tonight. I'm just making sure that's still the case."

"You couldn't wait for a day?" Arthur asks, his voice higher than you ever heard it before. "Are you crazy?"

When he says it like that, it surely makes you sound desperate, but the truth is, you are. "Look, I waited for years. I don't feel like waiting another day."

"So you gonna risk your life to get some dick," Arthur jokes, but you don't laugh. Instead, you lean over to him.

"I'm gonna risk my life to get your dick."

Arthur bites his lip and shakes his head as if to warn you. "You shouldn't be saying stuff like that to me when you can't get out of here."

"Why?" you say, not sure where the confidence to tease him is coming from. Maybe Dolly rubbed off on you a little. "What are you gonna do?"

Arthur's eyes roam over your body, heat taking hold of you, but then he leans back. "Nothing. I'm still angry that you didn't listen to me."

"I can still be your good boy now."

Arthur closes his eyes and sighs deeply. "Don't tempt me."

You thought going to Dolly was a bad idea. Then you thought going after Arthur was a bad idea. As it turns out, your ideas aren't that bad, so you decide to turn your newest plan into action as well. After all, how could you not?

Arthur is sprawled out next to you, his eyes still closed. The top buttons of his shirts are open, a few hairs sneaking out. It makes you wonder what lies underneath. You scoot closer inch by inch, watching Arthur's face. You remember kissing those lips, and you can't wait to do it again.

"What do you think you're doing?" Arthur asks, amusement in his voice.

Of course, he noticed you sneaking up on him, but instead of an answer, you follow your plan. It's a little tricky in the confinement of the coach, but you manage to crawl on top of Arthur. He opens his eyes while you move around, taking your time to get comfortable.

Arthur's still watching you by the time you stop fidgeting. Usually, you hate being looked at, but there's something warm and relaxing about the way Arthur looks at you. He runs his hands up your legs and holds on to your hips, warm and steady, just like he did the first time he touched you. "I hope you know what to do next because I ain't gonna tell you," he teases.

"I have some ideas," you say before leaning in to kiss Arthur.

You're perfectly fine to do just that for a long while. You're close to Arthur, breathing him in, tasting him, and feeling his touch. It's like you have to make up for all the years you were alone. The fact that Arthur isn't rushing you to do anything else gives you a chance let go off all your worries, to be completely content.

Then there are a few big bumps in the road, and you come to your senses when you feel Arthur's hard cock pressing against you. It's time for more. After all, you didn't go to Dolly to learn about kissing.

For once in your life, you move with confidence. Still kissing Arthur, you open the buttons on his shirt and run your fingers over his chest. What you feel makes you want to look, so you study him, touching scars and small burns. His body tells you a lot about what must have happened to Arthur in his "line of work."

You lean in and discover him with your mouth next, kissing and nibbling along his neck and collarbone. He stays calm through all of it, letting you do to him whatever you want. Until your lips touch one of his nipples. He sucks in air through his teeth, and his hips buck under you.

Instead of staying clear, you run your tongue around and over Arthur's nipple next, and his fingers dig into your hips while he presses his lips together. He must be trying to hold in a moan. Without knowing it, he challenges you to do more, to get him to be loud, just like he did with you the day before.

You slide down and kneel between Arthur's legs, running your hands down his thighs. When you reach for the buttons of Arthur's pants, he raises his eyebrows in surprise. "You ain't a good boy at all right now."

"Told you I'm not nice," you say, cupping the bulge in Arthur's pants with your hand.

Tilting his head back with a groan, Arthur lets you pull down his pants enough to get to the goods. For the first time since you got into the coach, you get nervous again. Of course, you've seen other men naked before, often by accident, but it's never been like this.

Arthur must notice your hesitation, reaching for you. "You don't have to-"

You don't let him finish the sentence but carefully pull his cock out of his pants, marveling at his size. Like everything about Arthur, it's huge, with an intimidating girth and thick veins along its length. You could have done with a bit less as a start, but the sight makes your own cock twitch. Just hours ago, you were taught how to do this by a professional. It's now or never, and you want nothing more than to have Arthur at your mercy.

Wrapping the fingers of one hand around him, you let your other hand wander to his balls. Just like Arthur did with you yesterday, you take your time with him. Teasing his balls with one hand, you move the other up and down his length, getting a feel for him. He's clearly bigger than yourself, and the angle is so different from what you're used to, but you know how to handle a dick after all.

So far, Arthur manages to stay quiet. The only difference to before is his breathing. It's speeding up the more confident you get. Just like your hand moves up and down, his chest rises and falls. Something inside of you urges for more. You're not that sweet, and you want him to see that. Bending down, you touch your lips to the tip of his cock, and the reaction couldn't be better.

Arthur's eyes fly open, and he looks down, his lips hanging apart as if something like this has never been done to him. You don't take your eyes away from him as you take him deeper into your mouth, and when he bites his lip, you bring out your tongue, swirling it around the tip of his cock. "Jesus Christ, boy," Arthur curses, his fingers clawing along the upholstery of the seat, desperate to find anything to hold on to.

You let go of him again, but keep him in your hand while you start licking along his whole length. He keeps staring at you, mesmerized, and you go at a steady pace, not bothering that you slobber all over him. Arthur's cock becomes slicker under your fingers, and you dare to tighten them harder around him, giving him a little squeeze here and there.

Arthur is biting his lip again, closing his eyes for short times but forcing them back open to watch you. His gaze makes you hot all over, your own pants growing uncomfortably tight, but it's his turn now, and you swear to make the most of it. Arthur's cock is pulsing in your hand, hot and heavy, a bit of precome glistening on the tip. You take him into your mouth again, eager to taste and when your tongue licks his slit clean, he moans. It's unnaturally loud after the initial silence, making your heart pound like crazy in your chest. You got him this far, and an evil little voice in your mind tells you that you can do much worse.

Even with Dolly's training, there's no way you can take his full length into your mouth, so you keep your hand around his shaft, moving up and down in slow, steady strokes. Still looking up at Arthur, you take turns lapping at his cock and sucking it into your mouth, building up pressure for a while before you release him. You make little circles around him with your tongue before licking along his whole length, over and over again. Whenever you hit a good spot or squeeze a little too tight, Arthur moans again, biting his lip right after.

"You sweet little devil," he curses and something hot stings in your chest at the words. You're not sweet, and you're going to show him.

You suck him into your mouth as far as you can, tilting your head enough so he can have a good look. The tip of Arthur's cock is grinding against the root of your mouth, and his eyes grow big at the sight of you. Just like Dolly told you, you try to relax your throat as best as you can, pushing him even deeper. Arthur curses and moans, unable to form actual words. Instead, he reaches for your head, holding you in place, bucking his hips. You're unable to breathe for a moment, and your hand closes so tight around him that it must hurt.

Arthur takes his hand back, gripping his own hair and squeezing his eyes shut. "Sorry, I'm so sorry," he breathes, but he's still rolling his hips, and you level your breathing to take him in as good as you can.

It doesn't take long for you to get used to the invasion of your mouth and you dare to use your tongue again, teasing him while he's still buried so deep inside of you. Arthur is grunting as if in pain. His hands are reaching for your shoulders to hold on to anything in reach.

Every sound of him makes you more eager to please, your hand pumping faster and faster while Arthur's cock slips in and out of your mouth. It becomes a mystery to you how he managed to focus on you the day before. You're so hard that you want nothing more than to touch yourself. You roll your hips to get a little bit of friction from your own pants, and when Arthur moans again, you do the same. The vibration of your throat must carry over to him, because Arthur bucks his hips again, lifting himself up from the seat. "Mercy, boy, have mercy," he pleads.

The words spur you on like nothing else. You've never felt so powerful before, having someone like Arthur begging for something only you can give him. You suck Arthur's cock deep into your mouth, your hand pumping his slick shaft. Then you swallow. Trapped in your throat, Arthur has no way to escape, and it only takes seconds for him to get over the edge. Arthur's whole body tenses, his fingers digging deep into your shoulders. He's trying to push away, to get out of you, but you stay where you are, wanting to have all of him.

"Goddammit, Y/N!" Arthur hisses, his balls tightening in your hand as he comes.

You swallow eagerly, Arthur's cock pulsing hot in your mouth until he's entirely spent. He falls back, his hands letting go of you and he takes deep breaths as you lick him clean. While Arthur's still coming down from his high, you tuck him back into his pants and sit down next to him. He finally looks at you again, sitting up straighter while buttoning his shirt.

"Ain't calling you sweet ever again," he says, shaking his head as you laugh. "Didn't you tell me you've never done nothing with a man? Because that sure didn't feel like it."

You feel your face growing hot. Of course, you hoped that this wouldn't come up, but now that Arthur mentions it, you can't lie to him. "I- well, I had some help. You know, from Dolly, back at the saloon. Blonde hair, always put up, very red lipstick. I kind of asked her what to do."

Arthur raises his eyebrows, his mouth falling open. "You went to a prostitute to learn how to do that? To me?"

"Yes," you say, your voice weak. He looks so shocked that you regret not only telling him but going to Dolly in the first place. "I'm sorry, I thought-"

"No no no," Arthur quickly says. He cups your face with his hands, a smile playing around his lips. "You apologize for nothing."

Then Arthur kisses you. It's not heated like before but with purpose; a thank you that Arthur's not able to put into words. He holds on to you, bringing your foreheads together as he chuckles. "Not sure if you're a good boy or a really, really bad one."

You laugh with him, all tension leaving your body. "Maybe I'm a good boy who likes to be bad for you?" you suggest.

"Or you're a bad boy," Arthur says, leaning back to get a better look at you, "who's really good for me."

The way he looks at you makes your heart miss a beat. His eyes hold something way more profound than just lust. You wish you could know what he's thinking, but don't get a chance to ask.

The coach stops and Arthur and you sit back, doing your best to look presentable. The door opens soon after and an old couple gets in. The man squeals a "gentlemen" at you and Arthur, but the woman rather stares as if presented with vermin.

You give her a polite nod, worrying that the smell of sex might still linger in the air. When she turns to the window with a scoff, you really hope it does.


	3. Wanted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is developing a mind of its own and decided it needed more plot. The smut will surely make a comeback, though ;)

Sitting in a stagecoach with the man you just sucked off and two complete strangers is quite the experience. On the one hand, you want to act inconspicuous, on the other hand, you're still somewhat hard in your pants and lust to ride that cowboy next to you. Arthur walks the same fine line. He sits closer than he has to on the bench that you share, his legs far enough apart that he can rub his knee against your own. It's a barely-there touch, but it keeps your blood pumping and your heart pounding, the inside of the coach feeling too damn hot.

You're lost in a fantasy what you could do the second the strangers leave the coach, but then Arthur is leaning over you, looking out the window before turning to the other window on his side. He growls, and fear grabs your chest. It can't be good when someone like Arthur gets nervous. "What is it?" you ask.

You and the couple stare at him while he keeps watching both windows in turn. "We're about to get robbed."

"Excuse me?" the gentleman says, and his wife claps a hand over her mouth in shock.

Arthur doesn't pay them any mind, looking at you instead. "Can you really shoot?"

"Yes."

"How well?"

"Told you, I hunt game for a living," you growl, a little annoyed that he keeps doubting you. "With the right weapon, I can hit a moving target dead-on from a few hundred feet away."

Arthur nods and hands you his second gun before turning to the couple. "This coach will stop any second now. I will get out and see what's going on. When I tell you, you will follow my friend outside. Look for something to hide behind and make sure you stay low."

"But, sir-" the man begins, stopping himself when the coach does as well.

"Guess we're out of time," Arthur says, pulling out his gun.

From outside, you can hear voices. The driver shouts something, then there's a shot. Arthur holds your gaze for a moment. "Keep these people safe," he says, before opening the door and jumping outside.

After a moment of oppressing silence, you can hear more shots and then Arthur's voice. "Run! Now!"

Despite your racing heart, you jump out of the coach yourself, Arthur dashing past you and around the coach. In the front, a body is lying on the ground next to the stomping horses. You can see another one in the grass on the side of the road.

"Follow me!" you shout at the couple when more shots are coming from the other side of the coach.

They come after you, and you lead them behind a big boulder at the side of the road. The woman screeches when she sees the corpse lying there, but you pull her along and push them both down. "Stay here. Don't move until we get you."

You take a moment for yourself to breathe and to access the situation. Your side of the road seems to be clear from attackers, but Arthur gets pinned down by the coach from a few shooters on the other side. You think about flanking them, but the road is too open. As soon as you set foot there, you'll be an easy target.

Instead, you make your way back to Arthur. "How many?"

"Three, I think," he grunts. "Can't get a clear shot, though."

"I'll go back into the coach and open the other door. That might draw their fire," you suggest.

Arthur nods, but then he grabs your arm. "I'll go. You see if you can hit one of them."

You swallow hard, thinking about Arthur's concerns to bring you along. Despite being under fire, you don't feel good about shooting at other people. Arthur steps around you, squeezing your shoulder for a moment. "You with me?"

"Yes," you say, because how could you not be. "Just tell me when."

Arthur rounds the coach, and you feel it shake a little behind you when he gets inside. "Now!" he shouts, pushing open the door.

You lean around the side of the coach, scanning the treeline. A man in a dark coat is stepping out from behind a tree, aiming a rifle at the coach. All you can think about is Arthur being in there, and you shoot without thinking. Blood is pouring from the man's chest as he staggers backward before tumbling to the ground.

A moment later, another man comes running, trying to get out of your line of sight. With shaking hands, you fire again, and the man stumbles a few more steps before falling himself. Arthur jumps out of the coach, firing at the trees. At first, you can't see why, but then you spot another dark figure, running away from the scene.

Arthur stops shooting but moves over to the first man you shot. You follow him, your gun still raised. "Is it over?"

"I think so," Arthur says, patting the man's chest before reaching into his jacket to pull out a silver watch.

Your brain finally catches on when Arthur checks the man's pants pockets as well. "What are you doing?" you ask.

"Making money," Arthur says, pocketing the watch and a few dollars. "Can you search the other one? I'll go check on our travel companions."

Arthur gets up as if he just chopped some wood or did any other everyday chore, not loot a dead body after a shootout. There's a lot you don't know about this man and fear creeps up on you. Still, your body moves on its own accord, your mind happy to follow an order. You're about to bend over the other man when something glistens in the evening sun. It's a gun, you know it is. A gun, aimed at you.

A loud crash echos in the vastness of the prairie and your legs give in. You fall down to your knees, your vision blurring. Then, something hard crashes against you, and you feel Arthur's arms around you. "It's alright, you're good. Stay with me now," you hear him say. "Breathe with me."

You can hear his breath from far away and somehow manage to mimic it, the world coming back into focus. The man in front of you has an ugly hole where his face has been. Arthur turns you away from him. "Look at me, Y/N."

Staring into the blue of Arthur's eyes, you keep breathing, and suddenly Arthur leans in and kisses you. The physical sensation grounds you enough to finally get you out of your stupor and when he pulls away, you put your hand on his chest for a moment. You feel the warmth of Arthur’s body under your fingers, your own blood still rushing through your veins. You're very much alive.

"I'm good," you manage to say, and Arthur gets to his feet.

He pulls you up next, supporting you as you walk back to the coach. "Come on, we better get out of here."

By the coach, you point to the huge boulder. "I'll get them."

Arthur nods, and by the time you convince the couple to come back to the coach, he manages to calm the reeling horses. It's a miracle they didn't take off. Then, Arthur climbs up the driver's seat and waves you over a second later. "I think he's still alive!" he shouts, and you run over to help him get the man down.

When you lie him down on the ground, the gentleman hurries over to you. "Let me see," he says, his voice free of fear now, "I'm a doctor."

He quickly checks the man before shrugging off his expensive jacket and pushing it on the man's wound. You know a thing or two about patching people up, but you're relieved that you don't have to act on it right now.

"I have a clinic in Armadillo," the man says to Arthur. "If you get us there fast enough, I might be able to save him."

"Alright," Arthur says. "Y/N, let's get him in the coach."

You do your best to hold the man steady while putting him in the coach and the couple climbs into the back with him. Arthur gets up into the driver's seat and pulls you up next to him. As he gets the horses in motion, your knees touch again, but now it's just comforting, a reminder that you can still feel things.

The ride is quiet, but you notice Arthur scanning the trees on both sides of the road and soon, you do the same. Neither of you talks until you reach Armadillo where you help the doctor carrying in the driver. The doctor gets his assistant to help him, and you're left outside with Arthur.

The doctor's wife is standing there with you, the way she looks at you and Arthur way different than before. "I don't know how to thank you, you saved us all."

"It's alright, ma'am," Arthur says, looking overwhelmed when she furiously shakes his hand.

She grabs your hand as well, even going so far as to kiss you on the cheek. "You're good men. I'm sure the sheriff will know of a way to reward you."

"Thank you," you mumble, not sure what else to say.

"No, thank _you_," she says, beaming at Arthur and you in turn. "I will get the sheriff right away. He has to know about this."

She takes off and you long to sit down for a moment, but Arthur grabs your arm, steering you to the door. "Let's get out of here. Fast."

"But the sheriff-"

Arthur gives you a look that has your blood run cold. "I ain't keen on meeting the local law enforcer. Now come on."

You stumble after him as the chips begin to fall in your head. Since Arthur's "line of work" includes shooting a couple of men on the open road and looting their corpses as if he's grocery shopping, there's a good chance that the sheriff has a picture of him in his office.

The man you're following is an outlaw. He's most likely very dangerous, and there's a good chance that the law is after him. And you had the bright idea to suck him off on the way to break another criminal out of jail.

Your chest cramps, and it gets harder and harder to breathe. You see the dead man's missing face in front of your inner eye, an image you won't forget in a hurry. Blood rushes through your head with such an intensity that it makes you dizzy and you hear your heart beat in a wild frenzy. "Arthur?" you squeal before everything goes dark.

* * *

It's still dark when you wake up, but little shining spots are sprinkled all over the blackness. Stars. You feel heat on one side of your body, a fire crackling next to you. When you try to sit up, you feel dizzy and are about to fall back when warm hands push you upward and hold you in place.

Arthur is leaning over to search your eyes. "You okay?"

"I guess. A little dizzy."

"Here, drink something," Arthur says, holding a small bottle to your lips. You take a few little sips and Arthur puts down a piece of tree bark filled with berries next to you. "You should eat something. Not sure you can stomach the meat."

A rabbit is roasting over the fire, the smell wafting over to you. It's not unpleasant. "I think I'll try it."

"Alright."

Arthur takes the rabbit off the fire to cut it up and breathes on the hot flesh until you can touch it without burning yourself. The simple gesture collides with the thoughts you had about him earlier. Your whole life, everything seemed to be either good or evil. Arthur appears to be both and neither at the same time.

You stare into the fire while you chew your meat. You're used to eating like this since you do it the same way while you hunt. In the end, you try some of the berries as well and take another swig from the water bottle. It tastes stale, but somehow you manage to sit up straighter now.

"Feeling better?" Arthur asks.

"Yeah. Guess I was just a little famished."

Arthur nods, and you wonder why he's not scolding you. You were supposed to get away from town as quickly as possible. Instead, you fainted like a fair lady in the summer heat.

"Where are we?" you ask, your eyes trying to make out your surroundings in the dark.

"Not far from the city, but it should be safe enough. I couldn't carry you that far without looking suspicious as hell."

Guilt consumes you, and you hate yourself for getting into that damn coach in the first place. After all, Arthur didn't want you to come along. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be such a bother."

"You're not," Arthur says. "To be honest, you're doing much better than I thought you would."

"I fainted," you say, spitting out the words.

To your surprise, Arthur chuckles. "You already exhausted yourself before the robbery. Then you got shot at, killed a man for the first time in your life, and almost got killed yourself right before you had to run from the law. You're doing fine."

You haven't thought about it like that, but your pride is still badly hurt. "You didn't faint."

"I've been doing this for a long time," Arthur says, looking at the flames. "Living like that, it changes a lot of things."

He sounds sad. You wish you could say something to cheer him up, but it becomes clearer and clearer to you that you know nothing about him. What could possibly make this man smile?

"What about your friend?" you ask instead. After all, that's what you came here for.

Arthur rubs his neck and sighs. "I'll take a look at the jail in the morning. Maybe I can get him out tomorrow night."

"That's a godawful plan," you say, venom in your voice. Arthur's back at excluding you from his plans and your chest burns. "You just said I'm doing fine and now you wanna do this on your own?"

"You almost got killed today," Arthur hisses back, his anger flaring as quickly as your own. "I ain't gonna be the one to put you in danger again."

"It's not your choice!" you shout, getting to your feet.

Arthur stands up as well, towering over you like an angry grizzly. "Don't test me, boy. I'll tie you up and leave you here."

"Yeah?" you huff, taking a step closer to him. Everything that happened to you today crushes down on you, and you just snap. "If you even try to touch me, you gonna regret it."

There are a few loaded seconds where you stare at each other over the fire, and then you both move at the same time. Arthur tries to grab you, but you manage to sidestep him, kicking at his leg to get him off balance. It feels like you're trying to move a bull and you stumble a little. Despite tripping, Arthur still manages to reach you, dragging you down with him.

You end up on top of Arthur, straddling his hips, while he's holding on to your shirt. Out of nowhere, he pulls his gun, holding it right to the side of your head. Out of instinct, you do what you always do when a predator wants to get the better of you. You pull out your knife and the second Arthur cocks the gun, you press the blade to his throat.

The night goes quiet again, the only sound coming from the fire. Both Arthur and you are breathing rapidly. Arthur lowers his eyes to the knife in your hand. "You was supposed to be sweet and innocent."

"I just never slept with a guy," you say, putting a little more pressure on the knife, “that doesn't mean I wouldn't slit one's throat if he's an asshole."

"I'm trying to keep you alive here," Arthur grunts.

"By holding a gun to my head?"

Arthur closes his eyes for a moment, then he puts the safety back on his gun and lets his arm fall down, dropping the weapon next to himself. "Better?"

"That depends," you say, keeping your knife where it is. "You gonna let me come with you to get your friend?"

Arthur sighs deeply. "Sure. Whatever you want."

You can't believe that he gives in so quickly, but since Arthur's letting his guard down, you allow yourself to do the same. You take the knife an inch away from his throat, but Arthur still doesn't move, both his hands lying next to him, his arms up. As he watches you, you become aware of the delicate position you're in. You're still sitting right on top of Arthur, and again, he's at your mercy.

"You know, for an outlaw, it sure wasn't hard to take you down," you tease him.

Something is glistening in Arthur's eyes, but it's not anger this time. "Maybe I got you right where I wanted you," he says, rolling his hips.

In that one quick motion, you feel him press hard against you, and a chuckle breaks out of you. "You can't be serious. You're turned on when I'm literally holding a knife to your throat?"

"Knife or not, you're sitting right there, and I'm but a simple man."

You roll your eyes at him, but can't ignore how your own pants threaten to get tight again. Despite everything that happened today, Arthur's still the man who swept you off your feet in that saloon and showed you more kindness in a side alley than most other people in your whole life. He killed three people today, and just held a gun to your head, but all you can think about are the sounds he made in that stagecoach and how badly you want to hear them again.

Still holding the knife in position, you run your other hand over Arthur's chest, the chance to tease him too tempting to pass over. "You know, I'm beginning to think that maybe you're the one who wants to be a good boy for me."

The second the words leave your mouth, you know that you made a mistake. A mischievous smile spreads over Arthur's face, his gaze fixed on you as if he's a hunter who just spotted his prize trophy. Although you see the warning signs, you're not prepared for his actions. He grabs your wrists, his grip so tight that you can't hold on to the knife. It tumbles into the grass next to Arthur's weapon. Arthur doesn't pay it any mind. Instead, he holds on to you to turn you both around. He's coming to rest on top of you, pinning your arms down over your head.

Unlike you, Arthur doesn't just sit there. The whole weight of his body is pressing down on you, and he rolls his hips again. Leaning over you, he looks quite pleased with himself. "Tell me again what happens when I even try to touch you."

"You gonna regret it," you growl and Arthur hums in agreement.

"I guess I shall," he says, leaning in close. His lips are hovering over your mouth, but he doesn't close the gap.

Although Arthur has you pinned down, he's still waiting for you to make the first move. With his breath ghosting over you, something deep in your chest begins to burn. A small, desperate flame. Your hunter's instinct tells you to pack up and run, so naturally, you lift your head and kiss him.

At the first brush of your lips, Arthur melts into you. He feels hot and heavy on top of you, and you should worry about him crushing your body, but you throw your arms around his neck and hold him close.

Arthur ruts against you, creating so much friction that it becomes painful. With an annoyed grunt, he lifts his hips enough to give you some room, and his forehead comes to rest against your neck. "Regretting it already," he murmurs, but then he uses the new position to leave feathery kisses along your neck.

"What about your friend?" you manage to ask again. While you're enjoying yourself immensely, it doesn't seem fair to let somebody sit in jail just because you can't keep it in your pants.

"He'll be fine," Arthur says in between kisses, his hand trailing down your chest.

You hate yourself for it, but you grab his shoulders, pushing him away to catch his eye. "Don't you think he'd try to get to you as fast as possible."

Arthur bites his lip, considering your words. Then he sighs. "I guess."

"So what are we gonna do?"

"Goddamn Johnny Marston," Arthur grunts as he pushes himself up into a sitting position, holding out his hand to help you up as well. "Gonna make him pay for that one."

"Why's he even in jail?"

Arthur runs his hands over his face before shrugging his shoulders. "That's just John being John. He was supposed to scout the area, see if there's something of value here. God knows what he did instead. Hopefully, he's got a good excuse for Dutch."

Your blood runs cold when you hear the name. "Dutch? Not Dutch van der Linde?"

"Why?" Arthur asks, furrowing his brows. His whole posture changes in an instant. He's guarding himself, and you have a feeling that you should think long and hard about your answer.

"I think I've seen a wanted poster of him at a trading post where I sell my pelts. Some bounty hunters were talking about the Van der Linde Gang," you explain. "Just recognized the name is all."

You look Arthur right in the eyes, hoping that your own eyes won't betray what else you heard from the bounty hunters.

"Bounty hunters, huh?" Arthur muses while stroking his beard, his gaze still fixed on you.

You shrug your shoulders. "I think everybody has heard of Dutch van der Linde."

Arthur laughs, all tension suddenly gone. "Should you ever meet him, please don't say that."

"Why not?"

He already has a very high opinion of himself," Arthur says, but there's fondness in his voice. "You'd be pouring oil into the fire."

"I'll keep that in mind," you say although you highly doubt that you'll ever run into Dutch van der Linde.

Arthur nods and gets to his feet before pulling you up. "If we want to get Marston out tonight, we better get going."

After killing the fire, you follow Arthur back to town. Your thoughts are racing, the memory of the bounty hunters suddenly fresh in your mind.

* * *

  
_You sit in one corner of the rundown saloon, still contemplating if you want to ride home or rent a room. The hunt has been a lot more complicated than you thought it would be and then you ended up cutting yourself like a complete idiot._

_Moving your fork to the other side, you stretch your bandaged hand. It won't be easy to hunt like this, but you can't afford to take a break. Finally digging into your meal, you take a look around, and a pair of travelers catch your eye, mainly because they're armed to the teeth._

_"We need you, Callahan. The more guys we have, the bigger the chance to actually get the reward," says a guy with an almost comically big hat._

_The man named Callahan takes a swig from his beer. "You got a wanted poster? I ain't moving until I know I'll get paid."_

_Big Hat pulls a piece of paper out of his pocket and hands it over. Callahan takes a quick look before pushing the paper back at him. "Are you crazy, Martin? Dutch van der Linde? That's too big for you."_

_"That's exactly why I need more men."_

_"Then ask the army," a rough voice says from out of the shadows. An old man steps forward, half his face covered with a white beard. "Because that's what you need to get the Van der Linde Gang."_

_Martin rolls his eyes. "Don't be so dramatic, McCreery. They're a bunch of outlaws. They bleed, and they die."_

_"Do they?" McCreery asks, stepping closer and nodding to Callahan. "I have seen Van der Linde and his men. Have you?"_

_"No, but-"_

_"Then let me tell you a story," McCreery says in a voice that doesn't allow any backtalk. "I came across that bunch after they was robbing a train, a whole posse of cops after them. They bunker down in an old farmhouse, and I stay nearby, waiting for the last man standing."_

_McCreery sits down opposite of Martin, who seems hooked. "And then what?"_

_You find yourself straining your ears. True or not, you like a good story, and that old fella looks like he has some to tell._

_"I had collected my fair share of bounties, was younger then, too. And I was good, nobody could sneak up on me. But there I was, watching the house when I find myself with a knife to my throat. This guy turns me around, somewhere in his twenties by the looks of him, and there's not a lick of worry in his eyes. He asks me if I was planning on getting them all on my own, smiling, like that's the best joke he's heard in his life. Wish I could have said something witty, but he puts his knife away and pulls his gun out instead, asking me for my name and what I do. Making conversation like he's bored."_

_"Was it one of them?" Callahan asks._

_"You don't know the half of it," McCreery says. "Once all the shooting stops at the house, I hear a voice shouting a name. Morgan."_

_Martin and Callahan share a look. "Morgan, as in Arthur Morgan?" Callahan asks._

_McCreery nods, a shadow falling over his face. "I owe the son of a bitch my life. The one shouting for him comes over, a damn kid, maybe 14 or 15, scrawny as hell but already a gun belt around his waist and a shotgun in his hand. That one doesn't bother much with me being there. They just talk about how it's looking good at the house because the lawmen are dead or running. Morgan takes my gun then and sends me on my way. I go, but pride is a fickle thing. I grab my spare, thinking I can at least take him. I've always been one of the fastest."_

_McCreery stops for a moment and just like Martin and Callahan, you find yourself hanging on his lips. He reaches for Martin's glass, taking a big sip before he continues. "To this day, I can't tell you how he did it. I'm already aiming my gun, and Morgan steps in front of that kid, shooting from the hip. I feared for my life, I tell you that. Then, my gun is flying out of my hand, and he gives me that look, I'll never forget it. A last chance. So I turn and run, and I don't look back."_

_They go quiet for a while, and you feel goosebumps all over you. Then Martin snorts. "So, that guy, Morgan, he protects a kid and lets you live. Doesn't sound like such a tough guy to me."_

_"I tell you why he let me live. To tell idiots like yourself to stay out of their business."_

_Martin looks like he's about to punch McCreery, but Callahan puts a hand on his arm. "I've heard some stuff about Arthur Morgan, and he's no joke. I figure, there's a reason he's Dutch's right-hand man. Seems to do a lot of the dirty work, too."_

_"Believe what you want," McCreery says when Martin shakes his head with doubt, "but what I just told you happened ten years ago. The law's been going hard after those boys, and they're still killing and thieving. Morgan was scary then, can't imagine him now. And if that kid's still with them, 10 years in the life, I wouldn't want to meet him in a dark alley at night. Had something dark about him."_

_"But that's the whole point," Martin argues. "They make themselves bigger and scarier than they are. And that's just three of them you know about."_

_"Yeah, and those three have me shaking in my boots already," McCreery admits. "Wouldn't wanna meet the fellas who joined them by now. No bounty in the world could be high enough."_

_Martin huffs. "Callahan?"_

_"Told you, ain't worth it," Callahan says._

_McCreery gets up from his chair, leaning over to Martin. "You get yourself an army, and you make your arrangements. Was good knowing you."_

_Martin only shakes his head and lets him go. He keeps talking to Callahan, but you lose interest when it's no longer about the Van der Linde Gang. You heard of them before, but you probably couldn't tell if you ran into one of them. Besides, you surely wouldn't be a target for any of them, unless they're looking for some buck hides._

_You finish your meal and walk over to the barkeeper to book a room after all. As you pay your debt, Martin leans at the bar next to you. "Hey, you! You know your way around that rifle you carry? I could use some help with a bounty. Pays well."_

_"Sorry mister," you say, "I couldn't help but overhear, and you're looking at the wrong fella. I'm lucky to survive the wildlife. Surely wouldn't be a match for outlaws."_

_Martin shrugs. "Can't hurt to ask, right? You have yourself a good night."_

_He leaves the saloon, and you make your way up to your room. On the way, you notice a piece of paper on the floor and pick it up. It's the wanted poster for Dutch Van der Linde. He doesn't look like you'd imagine a hardened criminal, more like a businessman. But then again, it's hard to say much about people from the outside. Who knows how many outlaws you run into without even knowing._

* * *

You crouch next to Arthur behind a building, and while he watches the jail, you keep looking at him. Although Arthur never told you his last name, you're sure that he's the Arthur Morgan those bounty hunters have been talking about.

Knowing what you know, you should run. Or maybe put a gun to Arthur's back and walk him over to that jail. The problem is, life's not that easy. Your uncle showed you that. Respectable looking men can have the devil in them, and a man with his face on a wanted poster could very well save your life. Of course, that's not what other people told you all your life, but looking at Arthur, it makes a lot of sense.

You're not stupid enough to think that he's a saint, but people rarely are. And then there's the way he looked at you while telling you to keep the doctor and his wife safe. He could have saved his own life by shooting those robbers. He could have taken the coach or just one of the horses. Instead, he helped save the driver. There's good in him. You see it every time he looks at you.

"Last chance to keep you out of this," Arthur whispers. "Getting a man out of jail is no joke. You could hang for that."

Something tucks at your heart, and you lean in and plant a kiss on Arthur's lips.

"What was that for?" he asks in surprise.

"For good luck," you say. "Let's get your friend."

Arthur smiles, and you realize that you're in even deeper shit than you thought. You just met this man, but storming a jail doesn't seem too bad when there's no doubt in your mind that you'd follow him into hell.


	4. Jailbreak

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seems I can't do without plot, but it'll stay spicy, I promise ;D

The plan you came up with might not be the best, but since it gives you probable deniability, Arthur agreed to it. He helped you cover yourself with a layer of dust, and when you had the bright idea to cut your hand to be more convincing, he scolded you first before kissing you stupid. In the process, he did a great job of ruffling up your hair and getting you panting like you just ran a few miles. It's the perfect cover.

You knock at the jail door, your heart pounding in your chest. When it opens, a young deputy peeks through the crack. "Yes?"

"I'm sorry, officer," you say, heaving a few deep breaths, "so sorry to bother you, but I was out hunting and this cougar- all of a sudden, my horse bucks me off and all I can do is run and- you see, I'm not from here- everything, everything's on my horse."

You bend over coughing, and the deputy opens the door and steps outside. "You alright, mister?"

You nod, getting upright again. "I hate to ask for help, but all I have is on that horse. Maybe if you have some water for my wound-"

When you hold up your bleeding hand, the deputy rushes forward to help you along. "Of course, please come in."

He helps you up the stairs and into the jail, fulfilling step one of your plan. Inside, he leads you to a small table and rushes off to get water. You can see a dark form on the cot in one of the cells. That must be Arthur's friend.

Other than that, there's nobody there. As long as the deputy isn't hiding a flock of officer's in the next room, you're good to go. He comes back with a small bowl of water and sits down opposite you. "Let me take a look at that."

"You're too kind, sheriff-?"

You act like you're waiting for a name, and the man blushes. "It's deputy, sir. Deputy Miller."

"Deputy, thank you so much for your help, you're a lifesaver."

You just mean to be friendly, but the deputy keeps his rosy cheeks while he bends over your hand to clean the wound. Once in a while, he sneaks a glance at you. His hands shake when he puts a bandage over the cut. It makes you wonder if he's only nervous about being on the job or if it has anything to do with you.

"Is the sheriff around as well?" you ask as if to make small talk.

"No, um, it's just me, manning the fort," Miller says, a nervous laugh breaking out of him.

Something about it seems odd, and you realize that he's acting a lot like you would when confronted by a stranger, especially one who's appealing to you. You don't dare to hope that you could be so lucky, but decide to test your theory.

Putting a hand on the deputy's, you give him a broad smile. "Guess I'm fortunate then that you're here."

Your fingers rest on Miller's hand, and his cheeks turn scarlet. "Yeah, I- um, I do what I can," he stumbles. "Just my job."

His behavior makes you wonder if you've just been too dense to notice men like him before. All of a sudden, you feel like you're Arthur, and he is you. Running a hand over your hair, you try your best to look upset. "Jesus, I must look horrifying."

"No, no, not at all. You're very pretty," Miller hurries to say. "I'm mean, you're fine."

In your mind, you can hear the trap snap shut. You lean forward a little, your fingers running over Miller's skin as you pull your hand back. "You're not too bad yourself, deputy. I so do like a man in uniform."

Miller looks at you as if he's about to burst into flames. You keep patting the dust out of your hair and shirt. "Please don't think of me as rude, but do you have a cigarette by any chance? You know, for my nerves."

"Yes," Miller says, fumbling for the pack that you saw in his breast pocket. "Here, please, take one."

You take your time picking one and roll it around between your fingers. "Maybe you want to come outside with me? I fear I'm still a little shaky."

"Of course," Miller says, jumping to his feet. He helps you up and holds your arm as if you might collapse any second.

You let Miller lead you outside, and when he holds a match to your cigarette, you keep looking at him while you suck on it. The look on his face is very similar to the one you recently got to see on Arthur. After searching unsuccessfully for willing men for years, it's astounding that you suddenly find two of them in only two days.

Keeping up the act, you take a step closer to Miller, forcing him to face the jail. "Hope you don't mind me standing a little closer. I still feel like that cougar might come at me any second."

"Don't worry, you're quite safe here for the rest of the night," Miller says, "and at first light, we can start to look for your horse."

"You would do that? How kind," you say while signaling Arthur with your cigarette that he should move in. "I'm beginning to think that I got lucky with that cougar attacking me. Wouldn't have met you otherwise."

Miller looks as if he might fall over any second at your words, but it doesn't come to that. A shadow steps around the house and presses a gun against the back of his head. "Nobody moves. If the two of you do exactly as I say, you might just survive."

Although you know that it's Arthur, a shiver runs down your spine at the words. You just can't get used to his voice. Lifting up your hands, you do your best to look scared instead of turned on. "Please, mister, I don't want no trouble."

Arthur throws a rope at you that you purposely fail to catch. "Pick it up," Arthur commands before grabbing the deputy by the shoulder and pushing him against the outer wall of the jail. "You gonna tie up our friend here. Go on, nice and tight."

You hurry over to the deputy and bind his arms, whispering a weak, "I'm so sorry."

One of the reasons Arthur let you come was that your plan has you look like an innocent bystander, and the deputy buys your act. "It's alright, mister. Just do as he says, and everything will be fine."

You jank at the rope to make sure he's well tight up, then Arthur grabs you and pushes you against the wall, pulling your arms behind your back. "Your turn, pretty boy."

Arthur keeps the ropes loose enough around your wrists that you could quickly free yourself, but getting tied up like this gives you a lot of inappropriate ideas. You like to believe that Arthur thinks the same when he pulls you close against his body. Aiming his gun at you, he nods to the deputy. "Move, or your little friend here eats a bullet."

Miller moves quickly up the stairs and through the door. Arthur pushes you to follow him, and you walk over to the cells.

"Rise and shine, Johnny Boy. It's time to go," Arthur shouts.

The figure on the cot moves in an instant, rushing over to the bars. "About time," he says in a scratchy voice. It makes you wonder how often one of them ends up in jail, only for the other one to bust him out.

Arthur waves his gun at the deputy. "Come on, open it up."

Still in Arthur's grip, you watch John, and he eyes you up as well while the deputy fumbles the keys to the cells out of a desk drawer. John's about as tall as Arthur, but leaner, his dark hair and eyes giving him a somewhat animal-like appearance. You remember McCreery's story and begin to wonder if that's the boy he's been talking about. He sure looks younger than Arthur.

"Get a move on," Arthur grunts, and Miller promptly drops the keys in front of the cell.

John pushes him away through the bars and picks the keys up himself to open the lock. "The sheriff left, but he might come back. We should hurry."

As soon as he's out of the cell, he pushes Miller inside. Then he reaches for you. Arthur shakes his head. "We'll take this one with us. A little insurance, in case anybody comes after us."

John's brows draw together in confusion. That doesn't seem to be what they usually do, but Arthur stares at him for a moment, and they have a silent conversation you can't quite follow. John turns around and locks the cell door, throwing the keys into a corner of the room.

Arthur takes a last look at Miller while his hand digs into your back, making you flinch. "Now, you better behave yourself. If I feel like you're trying to tell on us, I'll send Pretty Boy here back to you in pieces."

"No," Miller squeals, "please, don't hurt him. He's just a civilian."

"Oh, we'll take good care of him," Arthur says right next to your ear, making the little hairs on your neck stand up. "Don't you worry."

John leads the way, and Arthur pulls you along. Outside, John waves at the both of you to follow him. "I think they kept my horse over here, and if we're lucky, there's another one from the deputy."

Around the corner, you find two horses. John walks up to one of them, patting its flank. "It's good to see you, boy."

He turns to Arthur and you, giving you a measuring look. "You really want to bring him along?"

Arthur smiles and unties the rope around your wrists. "Don't worry, pretty boy's gonna come along willingly."

"It's Y/N," you say to John, rolling your eyes, "not pretty boy."

John stares at you in confusion, but then Arthur gets on the deputy's horse, holding his hand out to you. He helps you up, nothing about him indicating that you might be too heavy. Sitting behind Arthur, you put your arms around his waist without thinking.

"Y/N is a friend, alright? Now get a move on," Arthur grunts, getting his horse in motion.

"A friend, huh?" John asks, his tone still suspicious, but he gets on his horse. "Well, then friends, follow me. We gotta collect something before we get out of here."

"Collect what?" Arthur asks.

"The money," John says, grinning at Arthur's surprised expression. "Yeah, getting caught sucked, but I managed to hide the money before they took me. Kept them from getting any ideas about hanging me."

"You lucky bastard," Arthur grunts, and John laughs, clapping his spurs to his horse. Arthur follows suit.

* * *

John retrieves the money out of a half-rotted tree. Then, the three of you ride hard for a while to get enough distance between you and Armadillo. It'll still take you a while to get home, though, so Arthur and John decide to make camp for the rest of the night. John hitches up the tent in the cover of a big rock formation. If anyone comes along the road, you should see them long before they see you.

As the professional hunter, you take it upon yourself to find something edible while Arthur gets a fire going. All you come across is a snake and some berries, but it'll do for the moment. The three of you sit around the fire and eat while John takes turns looking at Arthur and you. "So, Y/N, how did you guys meet?"

You try to come up with a good answer that doesn't involve you moaning your head off in a side alley, but Arthur is quicker than you. "He saved your dumb ass from jail, that's all you need to know."

"And now I have to look at your ugly mug again, so maybe I should shoot him."

"Try," Arthur says without looking up from his meal.

The comment makes John turn to you again. He's staring at you for a while, ascertaining how much of a danger you are. Then he shrugs his shoulders. "I'll get some sleep. Wake me when you want to switch."

He crawls into the tent and falls flat on his face, not moving again. Arthur rubs his hands clean on his pants and nods over to the tent. "You should sleep, too. I'll keep watch for now."

"Not tired," you say, although you feel exhausted. You've been through too much in one day, and you won't be able to shut off your brain. "I can keep watch."

Arthur studies you over the flames of the fire, not even considering to go to sleep. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"During the robbery, you shot that first guy clean through the heart. That sure takes skill," Arthur says, his gaze fixed on you. "And then, you just graced the second guy."

Arthur doesn't say it, but you understand the implication. When he didn't say something before, you hoped that you'd get away with it, but now you have to fess up. "I saw him running and just couldn't do it. You were right. I'm not cut out for this. It's very different from shooting animals."

"But you took out the first one without a problem," Arthur says in confusion.

You remember the feeling when you imagined how the guy could shoot Arthur. It's like a giant fist is crushing your heart. "He was aiming at the coach."

Despite phrasing it like that, Arthur knows precisely what you mean to say. The guy was aiming at Arthur. He runs a hand over his beard and sighs. "You might not believe it, but I don't like shooting people. Dutch likes to say, we shoot fellers as need shooting, save fellers as need saving, and feed 'em as need feeding. I'm usually the one hiding in the bushes, trying to rob that coach. If a passenger gets out and decides to take me down, then that's alright. I'd deserve that."

His words are a lot to take in, and you're not sure yet what to think, but one thing becomes clear to you that you forgot in the heat of the moment. "Thank you, by the way, for saving my life."

Arthur shrugs. "Couldn't let you die a virgin now, could I?"

Something is rumbling deep in your stomach, making its way upwards through your chest, but you try to hold it down. You're sitting by the side of the road to hide from the law, contemplating if it's right to take a person's life. That's no time to laugh, but a chuckle breaks out of you and Arthur joins in.

It's a good look on him, and the sound of his laughter resonates deep in your chest. A weight falls from your heart, and you move over to him, desperate to pick up where you left off. Arthur stays still while you crawl into his lap, his hands coming to rest on your hips. It's becoming something familiar, just like kissing him. You part for a second where you both throw a quick look over to John, but since he hasn't moved at all, you choose to ignore him and focus on each other instead.

Arthur runs his hands along your arms, and his fingertips caress the sensitive skin on your wrists. "Don't even think about it," you grunt, and Arthur chuckles.

"Like you didn't enjoy getting tied up."

"I think you enjoyed it more to put a gun to that deputy's head."

A growl sounds deep in Arthur's throat, and his fingers tighten around your waist again. "I didn't like how he looked at you."

"Why?"

Arthur rubs his cheek along your own like a cat before putting his lips to your throat. "I think I made that clear from the start. You're mine."

"He almost fell over himself to get me some water for my wound," you say, tilting your head back to give Arthur more room. You know you're pouring oil into the fire, but feeling so wanted is better than anything you've ever experienced before. "Got all nervous when he touched me. When I touched him."

Arthur's hand reaches for the back of your neck, his fingers carding through your hair as if he needs to put reins on a wild horse.

"Touched him where?" he asks, a dangerous edge in his voice.

"Just his hand," you say, "but he got all nervous. Not sure what would have happened if we stayed inside."

You're sure that Miller would have done nothing at all, except maybe fall on his face, but Arthur sucks at your neck with a growl, his teeth scratching over your skin. The sensation makes you jump, but with Arthur's hands holding you in place, you can barely move.

"Do you still want to be mine?" Arthur asks, his lips ghosting over your ear, the heat of his breath sending a shiver down your spine.

The answer shoots out of you. It's not like you need to think about it. "Of course, I want to be yours."

You feel Arthur's cock pressing against your ass from below, and your dick twitches with interest. Arthur moves his hand further down, his palm rubbing over the bulge in your pants. "Then I guess I'll need to make you remember that."

Arthur makes quick work of the buttons on your shirt, and when you shrug it off, he takes his sweet time to study you in the light of the fire, his hand trailing over your collarbone and chest down to your stomach. Soon, you have goosebumps all over your skin, and Arthur opens the buttons on your pants as well. You shift enough so he can pull your cock out, but you feel like that's not enough for you now.

You work Arthur's shirt open as well and pull it down his shoulders, wanting him just the way you are. His hand moves lazily up and down your length, making you bite your lip to stifle a moan. You can't help that your eyes wander over to John. "What if he wakes up?" you whisper.

"He sleeps like a rock, believe me," Arthur says, not bothering to lower his voice.

Instead, he pulls you in for a kiss. The soft brush of his lips and the way he teases you with his tongue make you forget all about John. You run your hands down Arthur's chest while rolling your hips to get more friction in his hand. Then you open the buttons on his pants to pull his cock out as well. It's not the most ideal position to be in, but you both don't care enough to interrupt what you're doing.

Arthur kisses along your jawline and down your throat, burying his face there with a stifled moan when you tighten your fingers around him. You keep teasing each other like that for a while, tugging and rubbing, kissing everywhere you can reach. Your breathing is speeding up, and it becomes harder to stay quiet, your muscles straining from moving on top of Arthur.

Then your heart stops when there's movement in the tent. John turns onto his back, mumbling about a girl named Abigail. Arthur is holding his breath as well, and when John keeps still, Arthur pushes your hand away from his cock. "Let me speed things up."

You're not sure what he means, but then he rubs your cocks together, his large hand wrapping around the both of you. The way Arthur pumps his fist, he means speeding up quite literally, and you hold on to his shoulders while he goes back to sucking on your neck with so much gusto that you're sure he's leaving marks. You roll your hips and thrust up into his hand, the friction so delicious that you bite your own lip to stay quiet.

With Arthur back in control like this, it doesn't take long for you to tumble towards the edge, but you'd be damned if you don't take Arthur with you. Holding on to his neck, you pull him close to whisper in his ear. "I" m yours, Arthur. Only yours. I won't forget that."

Arthur groans and loses his rhythm for a moment, but then he buries his head against your chest. "Good boy," he hums, his voice so soft that it touches something deep inside of you.

You put your arms around Arthur and card your fingers through his hair. Feeling his breath against your chest, you know that something just changed. The heat between you is gone, making room for tender touches and soft kisses. You melt against Arthur, unable to hold on any longer. He keeps stroking the both of you until you come undone, covering Arthur's hand and his cock with your come.

He lets go of you, waiting for you to recover, but then Arthur grabs your hand to put in on his cock, begging you to pleasure him. You make good use of the come you left on him, his cock sliding in and out of your slick fist.

Arthur moans at the touch, the sound coming from deep inside of him while he's still pressed against you. You have a feeling that he might be used to quick fucks in side alleys, but nothing like this. It makes you wonder if that's the reason Arthur came back to you after the first time with him. Maybe you're somebody who can give him more than just sex.

"Thank you," you say quietly, your voice barely audible over the crackling of the fire.

Arthur looks up at you. "For?"

You run your fingers through his hair, studying his face. You feel like you'll never get tired of looking at him.

"For being so gentle with me, teaching me." Arthur's eyes drop for a moment, and you fear that Arthur might not be used to kind words and thank yous. That should change. "And for not letting me die a virgin."

Arthur chuckles. "It's not exactly selfless what I'm doing. And you're not out of the woods yet, still being a virgin and all."

You kiss him, adding to the thank you, and your hand moves in a relentless rhythm along his length. "Who knows, maybe tomorrow, there's no stage robbery or jailbreak, and you can stay at my house and make a man out of me."

Arthur's hips buck, and he buries his face against your shoulder as he comes undone with a growl. "Not. Nice," he whispers, still out of breath.

You hold him through it, fingers still in his hair, and you can't help but bend down and kiss his forehead, trying to be as gentle with him as he's with you. He needs to know that there's more to this than just getting off.

You stay like this for a while, enjoying each other's warmth. Only when you lean heavy on Arthur's head, he looks up and sighs. "You're dead on your feet. Come on."

Arthur cleans both of you up and helps you into the tent where you pass out just as quickly as John did.

* * *

You wake up with Arthur next to you. Sometime in the night, he must have switched places with John. Letting him sleep, you crawl out of the tent.

John is sitting by the fire, steering in a can of beans. He looks up when you approach, taking a quick glance behind you. "Arthur still asleep?"

"Yes," you say. "I don't know when you changed places, so I didn't want to wake him."

"Maybe two hours ago," John huffs. "Stupid son of a bitch thinks he's the only one who has to do things."

"Yeah, that sounds like him."

John studies you for a moment. "So, how did you meet then?"

You're not keen on going into details, but unlike Arthur, you don't feel like you can just brush John off. "Just, uh, ran into each other at the saloon two days ago."

"Oh," John says, raising his eyebrows, "so you're that pretty boy."

In his raspy voice, that sounds just as bad as in Arthur's deep growl. Even worse is the implication that he knows about you somehow. You can't imagine Arthur to be much of a tattletale.

John takes the can of beans from the fire, testing if they're warmed up enough. "Javier couldn't stop teasing Arthur when they came back from the saloon. Didn't think I'd be meeting you."

At first, the comment stings. To Arthur's friends, you must be nothing more than one of those guys Arthur has quick fun with before moving on. Then, warmth settles in your stomach because you're not. Arthur came back to you, and it doesn't seem like he's about to run any time soon.

"You're not much of a talker," John says, and you nod.

"Guess not."

John shovels some of the beans onto a plate before topping them off with dried meat and holding the makeshift breakfast out to you.

"You gonna join us then?" he asks when you take the plate.

"Join you?"

"Yeah, the gang," John says, preparing a plate for himself. "I figured that's why you're here. Getting some goodwill from Dutch. Not sure you picked the right job, though. I ain't much of a bargaining chip."

You stare at John over the fire. A thought like that never would have occurred to you, especially since you couldn't believe that they might take in other people. "I'm not an outlaw. Just a hunter."

"Then, why are you here?"

John sounds honestly confused, and you don't blame him. It doesn't make sense. You shrug your shoulders, trying to sound nonplussed. "Just bored, I guess. Felt like helping out."

"Shit," John says, laughing. "Sure ain't used to people being nice for the sake of it."

You eat in silence after that and get so lost in thought that you don't hear Arthur approach until he sits down next to you by the fire. "Sure hope you left something for me."

John holds out a plate but keeps just enough distance so Arthur can't grab it. "A good morning to you, too."

"Not in the mood, Marston."

"You might be in a better mood if you slept for more than three hours," you say, unable to keep the disapproval out of your voice.

Arthur turns to get a better look at you, barely able to hold his eyes open. "Goddamn, you talk for five minutes, and now you're both giving me the same lecture?"

"He's right," John says but finally hands over the plate.

Shrugging his shoulders, Arthur starts eating, and you fetch him a cup of coffee. It won't do you much good if he falls off his horse. After that, you help John packing up. When you're ready to leave, Arthur and John get on their horses, but this time it's John who holds out his hand to you. "Come on."

Both you and Arthur look at him like you can't ride with him. John waves his hand at Arthur's horse. "We got a long ride ahead of us. Old Boy can handle both of us. Not so sure if that nag can take you and Arthur."

You know he's right, but it's still odd not to ride with Arthur, even more so when you put your arms around John, feeling Arthur's eyes on you.

"Let's go then," Arthur grunts, riding ahead.

You ride along without talking much and only stop once so that the three of you have a chance to relieve yourselves. At a crossroads close to your hometown, Arthur stops.

"John, you can go ahead. I'll get Y/N back home."

"Alright," John says and tips his hat at you after you slip off his horse. "Pleasure to meet you, friend."

He puts a lot of weight on the last word, but you choose to ignore it. "Try not to get locked up again."

John shakes his head and rides on. Arthur helps you up onto his horse, and you take the other street. Arthur's going slow, and you wonder if he doesn't want to reach your destination. In town, you tell him where to go, and you end up in front of your house.

Arthur hitches the horse to walk you to your door. You can't help that your heart is pounding like crazy. You remember what you said about Arthur making a man out of you, and his reaction told pretty clearly what he thought about that. Faced with the actual possibility, fear creeps up on you again. You want Arthur, but over the years, being with someone has become this massive thing in your head, and you're not sure you're ready for it.

Still, you open the door for Arthur, gesturing for him to go inside. "You coming in?"

Arthur shakes his head. "I wouldn't mind, but I think I should check on the others. John got the money, but there might still be some trouble heading his way."

"Dutch?"

"That would be one of them, yes."

A sudden curiosity takes hold of you. There's Charles, Javier, Dutch and John. And then maybe a girl named Abigail. You begin to wonder just how big this gang is, and John's question rings in your ears. Are you going to join them? At this moment, you long to go with Arthur. Instead, you just nod solemnly.

"Watch out for yourself then," you say, and Arthur nods.

"I, um, might drop by sometime," he says, his voice unsure, "if you don't mind."

Your heart does a little somersault, and you lean in for a long goodbye kiss. "I don't mind at all."

A small smile creeps onto Arthur's face, and he steals another short, sweet kiss from you before turning around. It seems as if he has to force himself to go, and you do your best to stay in the door and not run after him. You watch him galop along the street until he disappears from view.

Going inside, you wonder what it's like to be an outlaw and if you could do it. One thing you know for sure, though. For Arthur, you would try.


	5. A Day in the Sun

It's been four weeks since you saw Arthur last, and slowly but surely, you begin to think that maybe you won't see him again. For the last two days, you even thought about taking the same road John did to search for their camp in the woods, but it might not be a good idea to sneak up on a bunch of outlaws. If they're still there at all, a small voice in your head keeps telling you.

With a heavy heart, you go about your business as usual. You go for hunts, do some chores for people in town, and drink at the saloon in the evenings. The only difference is that you're no longer looking for a guy. You can't imagine that someone might be able to replace Arthur, so who knows, you might still die a virgin. For now, you don't really care.

It's early in the morning, and you already feel tired, but you need to go out and hunt if you want to eat. It's what your uncle used to say. Some things need doing to stay alive. You're packing your provisions when there's a timid knock on the door. Maybe Mrs. Milton's cat is stuck in a tree again.

You open the door and freeze on the spot. Arthur is standing on your porch, hat in his hand. He looks too big for your small town place, and something is missing. Arthur's not armed to the teeth, the gun belt not around his hips. He's wearing regular pants, and a day to day shirt, looking more like a farmer than anything else.

"Arthur?" you ask, unable to hide the wonder in your voice. After all, you were trying to come to terms with never seeing him again.

"I'm sorry it's so early," Arthur says, looking more into the ground than at you.

You step aside from the door to finally invite him inside. "It's alright. I've been up for a while. Come inside."

Arthur follows you, and by closing the door behind him, he leaves the two of you in dim twilight. You hurry over to one of the windows, drawing the curtain back. Looking around himself to take in the place, Arthur turns to you.

"I don't mean to disturb you," he says, his voice as silent as his knock before.

"You don't," you say quickly, keeping yourself from throwing your arms around him. "I'm just a little surprised. It's been a while, after all."

"Yeah," Arthur says, rolling his hat around in his hands. "I've been back near Armadillo. Turns out there was more money to be had."

"Well, I'm glad you're back."

Arthur looks at you at the words, and you feel like screaming at him to finally kiss you, but he leans back against your table and studies the floor again.

"We need provisions back at camp," Arthur says, "and since you've been hunting around here, I thought you might be able to give me some advice where to find some good game."

Your heart leaps at the words, and you point to the bag and your rifle at the table. "You're in luck. I was about to head out for a little hunting trip. You can come along if you want."

"Sure," Arthur says, his face lighting up, "let's go."

He heads for the door, but you hold him back. "Arthur?"

"Hm?"

Using all the courage you can muster, you take his face in your hands and kiss him. It's only a quick brush of your lips on his, but you needed that like air.

"I'm glad to see you again," you say, before hurrying to the table to grab your things. Heading for the door, you pat Arthur on the shoulder. "Close the door behind you."

* * *

Embarrassed by your need for Arthur, you stay quiet as you ride, and Arthur follows you along just as silently. It feels awkward at first, but the day is too beautiful to feel bad. The sun is coming up, slowly growing warmer. There's a soft breeze nuzzling at your hair, and birds chirp all around you. And then there's Arthur.

He put his hat back on and has a small bag slung around his shoulder. Even with the rifle on his saddle, he looks nothing like an outlaw. It almost feels like he left that part of himself somewhere else for a while. One arm hanging loose at his side, he's leaning back in his saddle, as relaxed as you can possibly be on a horse.

"There's a little lake nearby up that mountain," you say, drawing Arthur out of his stupor. "There are usually some deer up there to drink, maybe some smaller stuff, too."

"Sounds good," Arthur says, bringing his horse a little closer to yours. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"How did you become a hunter?"

Memories flash in your mind, so many that it becomes hard to focus, so you take a deep breath to ground yourself.

"I needed to make a living somehow, so my uncle taught me how to hunt and fish," you say, a sudden thought crushing your mind. "I was actually thinking about stealing and things like that, but he said he wouldn't let it come to that."

Arthur huffs, and you realize who you're talking to. "Not that it's bad-" you begin, but Arthur interrupts you with a humorless chuckle.

"Oh, it is bad, let's not pretend otherwise," he says, looking over to you. "You're lucky you had your uncle."

You nod, curiosity taking hold of you. "What about you?"

Arthur looks into the distance, making you think that he won't answer, but then he sighs. "I lived on the street when I was 15. Dutch and Hosea took me in. It's just that they didn't keep me on the straight and narrow."

A small smile is playing around Arthur's lips, seemingly amused by the thought of an honest Dutch van der Linde.

"Seems like you didn't have much choice considering your career path," you say.

For a moment, it looks as if Arthur wants to disagree, but then his shoulders fall a little. "I guess not."

You both stay quiet for a while until you remember your conversation with John. "John asked me if I was going to join the gang."

Arthur's horse does a little leap when he presses his legs together, his eyes wide as he looks at you. "What?"

"He thought that was why I helped you with breaking him out of jail," you explain. "To score points with Dutch."

"Yeah," Arthur says, scratching his beard, "I get why he would think that. We're not used to people helping us out just for the hell of it."

You're toying with the idea of telling him how you thought about joining the outlaw life for him, but you can't see anything good coming from it. Instead, you nod over to the nearby lake.

"Let's leave the horses here. We wouldn't want to spook our prey."

You and Arthur take your rifles off your horses, and Arthur follows you into the trees as quietly as possible. The hunt has begun.

\------  
Judging by the position of the sun, you've been at it for hours, looking for trails and stalking whatever animals you can find without ever catching anything. So far, you haven't seen a single deer. Despite the shadow of the trees, the sun burns down on you. Both you and Arthur are drenched in sweat.

"Is it me?" Arthur whispers behind you. "Am I spooking them?"

"No, it's not you," you say, not bothering to lower your voice. There's nothing there to spook anyway.

"Then what?"

You sigh and wipe some sweat from your face with your sleeve. "There must be something else they're afraid of."

"Like what? Other hunters?"

"That or predators, like wolves or-" Your eyes fall on a trail on the ground, and you sigh again. "Or coyotes. Looks like a whole pack of them."

Arthur studies the prints on the ground as well. "But shouldn't we have found some dead animals then?"

"They're usually not big or quick enough to actually kill a deer, but they're scary enough to spook them. I don't think we'll find anything here."

"Alright," Arthur says, accepting your fate more willingly than yourself. It bugs you that your first hunting trip makes you look like a complete idiot. "Then, what now?"

"Best we head back to the lake and circle it. If we're lucky, the deer only crossed it, and they're still on the other side."

"Sounds like a plan," Arthur says, and for once, he takes the lead making your way through the woods. You have a feeling that he likes it better this way.

You soon come back to the lake and call for your horses to set up a small camp. You and Arthur sit side by side, sharing the food you brought along. It's peaceful to watch the lake, but the sun is still mercilessly shining down on you, and you feel way too hot. With every passing minute, the water looks more tempting, and you get to your feet.

"I think I need to dive in for a moment," you say, unbuttoning your shirt.

Arthur watches you with surprise in his eyes. "You wanna jump into the lake?"

Brushing down your suspenders, you fumble with the buttons of your pants next. "Yes, I do it all the time."

"What if somebody comes along?" Arthur asks, looking around like he's waiting for someone to storm out of the nearby trees.

"I don't think so," you say. "There aren't many fish in the lake, and besides a few deer, there's not much to hunt. Barely anybody comes up here beside me."

Arthur leans back at your words, watching you with a concentrated expression. "So, I asked you to show me a good hunting spot, and you bring me to a secluded area in the woods where's nothing to hunt? And now, you're stripping down."

"That's not- I don't-" you stutter, the implication of his words weighing down on you. You're about to venture into an explanation when you see the tiny smile playing around Arthur's lips. With a grunt, you pull off your shirt and throw it in his face. "Not funny, mister."

"Oh come on," Arthur says, peeling your shirt off his face, "it's a little funny."

You spin around and pull down your pants, strutting into the water without looking back. Still, you're aware that Arthur must be watching you. Despite the cold water, heat waves run over your body, so you do your best to ignore Arthur and enjoy the water.

It works out fine until you notice him standing close by the shore, staring at the water as if he's considering to join you. You swim over to him, splashing some water in his direction.

"Come on in, darling, it's great!"

Arthur stares at you as if you just grew two heads. "Did you just call me darling?"

With horror, you realize what slipped out of your mouth, but try your best to sound calm. "I'm sorry. I won't say it if you don't like it."

No, it's fine," Arthur says in a hurry. "It's just that nobody's ever called me something like that."

His cheeks have actually gotten a bit of color, and your heart melts. Arthur's been so careful with you the whole time, he deserves to be treated the same way.

"Well, darling," you say, putting as much emphasis on the word as you can, "are you coming in or not?"

Arthur runs a hand over his beard. "It looks cold. I don't think it'll do me any good down there."

He's indicating his crotch area, prompting you to laugh. "Jesus Arthur, I have seen you at your full size. I highly doubt a little cold water can do you any harm."

"You say that now," he mumbles, looking more at the ground than at you.

You thought Arthur was just joking, but now it seems like he's actually worried about his appearance. Swimming a little closer, you smile up to him.

"Tell you what, if you come in, I promise that I'll do anything to warm you up."

"Anything?" Arthur asks, a spark in his eyes.

"Anything."

Arthur begins to unbutton his shirt, so you swim away to give him some privacy until he's in the water. You never would have thought that Arthur could be insecure about anything, especially his body. Not when all you can think about is how you want to get your hands on him, licking him all over.

You hear a splash, and soon after, Arthur is catching up to you. His face is sour when you turn to him.

"It's freezing," he groans.

You turn around to swim in his direction, putting on another smile. "It's refreshing, that's all."

When you come closer, Arthur smiles as well. "No, it's cold, and I need to be warmed up."

Your heart starts racing, but you're a man of your word. Trying to ignore that you're both completely naked for the first time, you swim up to Arthur to put your arms around his neck. Arthur's hands immediately hold your hips, and you end up hitching your legs around him as well, creating some delicious friction.

As you roll your hips, you can feel Arthur's cock pulsing against your own, and happy to finally have him this close again, you lean down and kiss him. Just like in the morning, it's a soft brush of lips, and you melt against Arthur.

After the rush of your first meetings, it's almost like Arthur's deliberately tender with you this time, leaving all the outlaw business behind. Out here, nobody is shooting at you, and there's no chance Arthur could do anything that might get you into trouble. Aside from being so kind to you that you might combust.

All you do is enjoying each other with long deep kisses and soft touches. There's no rush. At least until you shake in Arthur's arms.

"Not cold, huh?" he teases, and you lean your head against his neck.

"That's just because we're not moving enough."

"Then, let's get back to shore and move there."

You let Arthur drag you back to your camp, but your heart is racing. Somehow, you always end up in these situations where sex is on the table, and every time your body clamps up, and you want to run.

Still, you lie down with Arthur and let him pull you close. It's just that you can't get into it as much as before, and Arthur notices, pulling back from a kiss to watch you. "You alright?"

You remember the first time he asked you that. Even then, you dared to tell him, so it would be stupid to stay silent now.

"A little afraid, actually," you say, trying your best to hold his gaze.

"Of me?"

The worried expression on Arthur's face has your blood run cold, so you quickly shake your head.

"No, not you. Just this," you say, gesturing between the two of you.

Arthur's eyebrows knit together. "I know you haven't been with a man, but what about women? Nothing?"

You shake your head again, a feeling of shame taking hold of you when you think about your inexperience. "Kissing, maybe touching, but nothing else."

"You know I'm not going to do anything you don't want, right?"

"Of course, I know," you say. After all, Arthur has proven that many times over. Something deep inside of you actually wonders from where he takes the patience. After all, a man like him could easily find a more willing partner elsewhere.

"Just gotta get you used to this then," Arthur says, pulling you closer. "Don't worry so much."

At first, you don't think you have it in you to worry less, but with the way Arthur kisses you, the fear slowly withers away, making room for more pleasure.

Arthur's hands roam over your body, driving out the cold. He kisses along your neck while your bodies rub against each other, and finally, the closeness is something you can enjoy.

"You wanna try something?" Arthur asks, nipping at your ear.

"Sure," you say immediately, a little embarrassed about your eagerness.

"Then turn around for me."

You're reminded of the first time Arthur asked this of you, but instead of fear, you're suddenly filled with excitement. Back then, Arthur didn't know about your worries, but now you trust him not to go over your limits.

Arthur pulls you in from behind, his warm body pressing against yours. He leaves soft kisses along your neck while his hand wanders down your body. Gripping your thigh, Arthur lifts up your leg and scoots closer. You can feel his hot length pressing against you from below, and he puts down your leg, trapping himself between your thighs.

A little gasp escapes you when Arthur begins to move. His cock rubs along your ass with the tip hitting your balls with every push. With Arthur still wrapped around you, it's the closest you've ever been to actually having sex.

"You alright?" Arthur asks.

"More than alright," you say, and you can't help pushing back against him.

Arthur buries his face in your neck and groans. "For someone afraid, you sure know how to drive me crazy."

You wish you could say something witty, but you're too caught up with the sensations, and knowing that you affect Arthur in the same way turns you on even more. All you can do is getting lost in the heat of Arthur's body, your own skin on fire wherever he touches you.

After a short while of Arthur rutting against you, you reach for his hand and move it between your legs. Arthur fulfills your silent request by wrapping his fingers around you, but at first, he doesn't do much else, letting you set the pace with your movements.

Then, Arthur grips you tighter, and his other hand runs up your chest and closes around your throat. It's a barely-there touch, but it reminds you of your first time with Arthur when he pinned your hands in place over your head. Being owned by him like this drives you wild.

You can't decide if you want to grind back against Arthur's cock or push forward into his hand. Finally, you take turns with it, chasing your pleasure until eager moans tumble from your lips.

Arthur trails little kisses and soft bites along your neck until his tongue teases your ear. "I missed you," he murmurs, "missed my good boy."

The words send a cold shiver down your spine, and your hips stutter for a moment until you thrust hard into Arthur's hand. You don't know how that's possible, but his voice is almost enough to push you over the edge.

Arthur leans in again, almost as if he knows. "You want to be good for me?"

"God, yes," you moan, no longer embarrassed about your eagerness.

Taking his hand away from your cock, Arthur gets a needy whine out of you, and he chuckles softly behind you. "Touch yourself for me."

You do as you're told, squeezing yourself for a moment to control yourself. It doesn't do you much good, though. Arthur lifts up your leg again, freeing himself from the enclosure of your thighs. Then he props your leg up, giving himself access to your most sensitive parts.

Your heart is beating like a drum, but you still can't stop touching yourself, Arthur's voice washing over you again. "Just relax, not gonna hurt you."

With the words, you feel the hot tip of Arthur's cock pressing against your hole, the touch sending a burning sensation through your whole body. Arthur's not pushing in but keeps teasing you like this, smearing his precome around your hole. You're so sensitive there that little gasps and cries escape your lips while your hand strokes yourself in such a frenzy that you won't be able to hold on much longer.

"You're so good," Arthur moans behind you. Then you feel him press harder against you, his cock stretching you open a little as he pushes just the tip against your rim. "My perfect, wonderful boy."

His hand closes harder around your throat while his hips stutter. You feel his hot come against your skin, and suddenly, his hand is on your cock again, stroking you so feverishly that you can't hold on any longer. Crying out Arthur's name, you come into his hand, Arthur's cock still pulsing against your hole.

Arthur lets go of your throat then to let you take in deep breaths, closing his arms around your chest instead. While he buries his face against your shoulder, you reach back to run your fingers through his still-damp hair, and a voice deep inside of you seems to whisper. It won't be long now. If someone should have you, then it should be the wonderful man holding you, and you know for sure that you won't be afraid.


	6. Unannounced Guests

Once you and Arthur found the strength to let go off each other, the two of you managed to hunt two deer. You brought them into the little shed behind your house, yours for skinning and Arthur's to stay safe from vultures. For once, Arthur accepted your offer to stay the night, planning on heading back to camp early in the morning.

It's been dark by the time you got back, and you and Arthur stripped down to your underwear before heading into bed. You ended up wrapped around Arthur, your face buried in his neck. With his hot body pressed against you and his scent in your nose, you fell asleep immediately.

The next morning, you find yourself turned the other way around. Arthur's arm is wrapped around you, his breath ghosting over your skin. It makes you feel like you're in a dream. After almost making your peace with Arthur being gone, you're now closer than ever after he came back to you yet again.

At this moment, all warm and content, you let yourself believe that this could be something special. You can't think of anything that Arthur could gain from tricking you, so he must really like you. The thought takes root right beside that little flame that burns for Arthur ever since you made out by the fire after rescuing John.

Arthur moves behind you, his arm pressing you even closer while his lips touch your neck. You use the new position, rolling your hips to rub against Arthur. It doesn't take long for him to grow hard, and when you push back against him, he groans. "Not a good boy at all," he mumbles.

"Good morning," you chirp, getting another groan in response, so you reach back to pat Arthur's head. "Did you sleep well?"

When there's only silence, you wonder if Arthur fell asleep again, but then he gets up on all fours, looming over you. You turn, meeting his gaze.

"I haven't slept so well in years," he says, a bit of wonder in his voice.

Arthur runs his fingers down your face, a glimmer to his eyes that makes you melt inside. You can't remember being looked at like this ever before, and somehow you begin to feel bad about your reluctance to give Arthur everything.

"I want to be with you," you stammer, the sudden spur of guilt forcing the words out of you, "I really do. I don't know why I'm so afraid."

Arthur's brows knit together, and you hate yourself for taking away his former expression. He doesn't stop caressing you, though, more thoughtful now. "It's scary to offer yourself to someone. I get that."

"Wait," you say, struggling to believe the true meaning of his words, "you've done it? You seem more like the one to do it to others."

Arthur laughs and sits back on his heels. "I usually am, but that doesn't mean I can't take a cock."

You can't help but look down in embarrassment from Arthur's words, and he chuckles, clearly amused that you come off as the sweet boy you keep telling him you're not. He leans over to catch your eye, and you meet his gaze, trying your hardest not to look away again.

"Shut up," you huff, and Arthur allows himself another smile before turning serious again.

"It might feel weird at first when things are supposed to come outta there instead of going in," he says with a shrug.

"Then why do people do it?"

"You remember yesterday," Arthur says, and you close your eyes with a sigh. Of course, you do. Arthur hasn't even been inside of you, and it still felt better than anything you've ever felt before.

"It's like that, but just… more," he says. "People do weirder things for a lot less."

At first, you feared that talking about this might bring back your fears. Instead, it gets easier. "How does it feel?" you ask, and another question imposes on you. "Does it hurt?"

Arthur studies you for a moment, making you wonder if he thinks of you as dumb for asking these questions. Then he looks over to the table where he put down his bag.

"It can hurt, but only if you don't do it right. So that's what you're afraid of."

"Guess I am," you say. The sudden realization makes your heart feel lighter, and you feel like kissing Arthur stupid just for talking to you about this.

"What if I could show you what it feels like?" Arthur asks. "Without actually doing it."

You have no idea what he's talking about, but you trusted him the day before, and it turned out fine, so you nod. "Alright."

Arthur gets up to retrieve a small bottle from his bag, showing it to you when he crawls back into the bed. "It helps to loosen you up so it won't hurt."

"And you just happen to carry that around with you at all times."

This time, Arthur is the one looking down, a rosy color tainting his cheeks. "It's handy for all kinds of things," he defends himself, and when you laugh, he leans in to shut you up with a kiss.

"You want me to show you or not?" he asks.

"Yes, please."

Arthur crawls between your legs, and after helping you out of your underwear, he reaches for your calves. "Now, be a good boy for me and lift up your legs."

You do as he says, but you still feel like running, your heart pounding again. Arthur pours some of the substance from the bottle on his fingers before running them around your hole. It feels oily and definitely not unpleasant. Still, Arthur doesn't seem satisfied with your reaction.

"Close your eyes and try to relax," he says, "I ain't gonna hurt you."

You do as he says, taking a deep breath and trusting that he'll make you feel as good as yesterday. Arthur applies more of the oil, but you can't focus on what he's doing, too distracted by another sensation. Hot breath is ghosting over your skin, and then Arthur licks along the whole length of your cock, making it twitch.

Your eyes fly open, and you stare at him as he sucks you into his mouth. Just like thinking that Arthur wouldn't let another man take him, you never imagined him doing this either. You're clearly wrong. The way Arthur pleases you with his mouth tells you that he's not doing this for the first time, and he probably didn't need a Dolly to teach him.

Arthur teases you with his tongue, and only the bucking of your hips makes you aware that his fingers are still on your ass. With his free hand, Arthur wanders up from your balls over your stomach and up to your chest, playing with your nipples. Then his fingertip slides into your hole. It does feel weird, but with Arthur giving you all these other pleasures, it's easy to relax.

While still distracting you with his touches and his lips, Arthur takes his sweet time to get you used to the unfamiliar intrusion. It's not painful, and a lot less weird than you thought it would be. Soon, you find yourself pushing back against Arthur's finger, wanting to feel him even deeper.

Most of the time, Arthur complies, but sometimes he draws back, making you wait for it while his tongue drives you crazy. With his flat hand resting on your chest, he sucks you deep into his mouth, his finger curling ever so slightly inside of you.

You can't hold back eager moans and gasps, and when Arthur drags his finger in and out of you, tension is building inside of you that you've never felt before. You fist your fingers in Arthur's hair, desperately holding on to him.

When he said that it wouldn't hurt, you never could have imagined that it could feel so good. You can't decide if you want to watch Arthur or just fall back and let it happen. Him looking up to you while he sucks your cock deep into his mouth brings you so close to the edge that you can barely take it, but in the end, you fall back on the bed, just enjoying the different sensations.

You claw at your sheets, moaning and panting. "Arthur, please," you gasp, desperate for release.

Arthur sucks you deep into his mouth one last time before letting go off you, making you whine in frustration, although you know by now that he'll take care of you just a moment later. Arthur comes closer, nudging your hips to get you to lift them before pushing his knee under you.

After pulling himself out of his underwear, Arthur presses closer, his cock rubbing against yours. He takes you both in his hand, stroking slowly while his finger keeps sliding in and out of you.

"Does it hurt?" he asks, and it takes all your willpower to squeeze out an answer.

"No."

"Do you understand now why people do this?"

"God, yes," you moan, wondering why you never tried to do this yourself.

With every push of Arthur's finger, he seems to set your insides aflame, hot sparks shooting through your stomach, and up your cock. His fingers close hard around you, his flesh rubbing against yours, hot and heavy.

"Imagine if it's not just my finger," Arthur says between desperate sighs, now just as aroused as you are. "Imagine it's my cock inside of you, how much deeper it can go, how I could fill you up."

Feeling Arthur's cock sliding up against you right now makes it easy to imagine. You would finally know what it would be like to have him in you, his pulsating flesh buried deep inside, the tension building up while Arthur's body is pressed flush against your own.

You could hold him and kiss him, be closer than you've ever been before. A sudden longing fills up your chest, bringing tears to your eyes.

"Arthur, please," you moan, and there must be something in your voice that makes him understand.

He leans forward, and you throw your arms around him, drawing him in for a kiss. It should be impossible for him to hold that position, but he lets you cling to him. While his finger curls inside of you, he whispers against your lips. "You're doing so good, my sweet boy. Just let go."

You cry out as his words send you over the edge a moment later, all the tension building up in one spot before flooding your whole body. You come in Arthur's hand, your muscles clenching hard around his finger. You hold on to Arthur, pressing your face in the crook of his neck, barely able to breathe.

Then you fall back, gasping for air while Arthur keeps stroking himself. He pulls out his finger, and like the day before, he presses his cock against your ass as he comes, painting you with his seed.

A sudden calmness enters the room as Arthur lies down next to you, only interrupted by your breathing. With your last strength, you turn to Arthur, and he pulls you close when you put your head on his chest. You listen to his heartbeat while Arthur runs his fingers through your hair.

"I won't stay away for so long anymore," he says, so quietly that you're not even sure he means to talk to you. "I promise."

Warmth pools in your chest and you fall asleep.

* * *

It's been only three days since your hunting trip with Arthur, but you already miss him even worse than in the weeks before that. He had to bring the deer back to camp but promised to visit you within the week. You hope he'll be back soon. Assuming that more could happen between you two, you took a bath at the saloon every day, and you're beginning to attract weird looks and some gossip from the girls.

The day draws to a close, and you wonder if you should head to the saloon when there's a rapid knock on the door. Your heart almost leaps out of your chest, but you remind yourself that it could be somebody else than Arthur.

Opening the door, you see a familiar face, but one you didn't expect. "John?"

"Hey there, friend," John says, looking over your shoulder to check the room. "Sorry to barge in like that, but we need a place to stay."

"We?" you ask in confusion while John pushes you to the side to make more room.

Charles and Javier walk in after him, followed by a smaller, burly man you haven't seen before. After them comes Arthur, taking a look around outside before quickly closing the door.

Charles walks around the room, closing all your drapes, while Javier pulls out a weapon to reload it.

"I don't like this, we should just get out of here," the smaller guy says.

"Shut up, Bill," John hisses as you turn to Arthur.

"What the hell is going on?"

"Um, we'll leave you to it," John says, ushering their men to the other end of the house, giving Arthur and you some room.

Arthur grabs your shoulder and pulls you aside, shielding you from the other's view. "I'm very sorry to drag you into this, but John insisted that we come here," he says quickly, his voice low and out of breath.

"Why?"

"We're in trouble," Arthur says, before hiding his face behind his hand. "God, this was a mistake. We need to leave."

"Arthur, tell me what the hell is going on," you say, fear creeping up on you. You've never seen Arthur so worried, even before your coach got robbed.

Arthur sighs deeply. "We just robbed the bank, and something went south. There's way more police than we thought, and they're already blocking the streets. We can't get out of here without a bloodbath."

Your heart drops, wondering if Arthur knows in how much trouble they really are. "Are you crazy? There are bonds in that bank, government bonds. They could call in soldiers from the nearest fort if they feel like it. This is by far the worst possible bank to rob."

All color is draining from Arthur's face. "We didn't know that," he whispers.

"Well, you should have asked me. Not doing shit on your own, remember?"

Arthur doesn't answer you, seemingly lost in thought. "We can't be here. It's too dangerous for you," he says before waving the others over. "Come on, we're leaving!"

"Told you pretty boy ain't gonna help us," Bill hisses at John.

They head for the door, Arthur trying to push past you, but you plant yourself in front of him and press one hand flat on his chest, making them all stop. "You're not going anywhere."

"Come on," John begins when you see Bill reaching for his gun.

Without thinking, you pull Arthur's gun from its holster and aim it at Bill. "Move and lose your hand," you growl.

Bill hesitates, and Arthur looks back and forth between you two. "He's a damn good shot," he says, but his voice is strained.

When Bill lifts his hand away from his gun, Arthur turns to you. "Please, just let us leave. You gain nothing from handing us over to the police."

You stare at him, unable to believe that he could think this about you. "I'm going to help you, you dumb bastard, just keep that dog off of me."

You turn the gun around and hand it to Arthur before walking to the middle of the room. The men watch you as you draw your carpet back, revealing a trapdoor. "My uncle built this in after the house was done. Nobody knows it's here."

You open the trapdoor, and since John is standing closest to you, you wave him over. "Come on. Those government fellers don't joke around. They'll go door to door if they have to, you have to hide."

At least John seems to trust you. After a quick look over to Arthur, he disappears down the ladder. "Looks good," he says, and you wave at the others to follow.

"I ain't going down there," Bill grunts, but immediately gets pushed forward by Charles.

"Move, or we'll make you," Javier says, his hand resting on the knife on his belt.

With a groan, Bill gets in motion but gives you a dirty look before he disappears through the door. Charles and Javier follow him without a fuss, leaving Arthur and you behind in awkward silence.

"I'm sorry I thought-" Arthur begins, but you cut him off.

"We'll talk later. Now just get down there before the damn police show up!"

Arthur nods, and the second he's through the door, you close it over him, putting the carpet back in place. Soon after, you hear voices and shouts outside. With your heart pounding like crazy, you devise a plan, hoping to get the police to stay away from you.

Heading outside through the back, you get the last deer you shot and drag it into your kitchen. Acting fast, you get it open and slice it up, hanging up body parts and generally making a mess. By the time there's a knock on your door, your whole house reeks of the dead animal, and your apron is drenched in blood.

"Open up! It's Sheriff Lewis," a voice shouts from outside.

You've known the Sheriff since you were a child, so you go to open the door right away. Anything else would be suspicious. Outside, the Sheriff is flanked by two official-looking government types, one of them raising his gun the second he sees you.

"Sheriff?" you ask, and Lewis quickly pushes down the guy's gun, giving him a dirty look. Then he turns to you.

"Sorry to interrupt, but we got a serious situation going on. You might have heard the commotion."

"Is it the panther?" you say, wiping your hands at a bloody rug. "Already got two of my deer, that bastard. I tried to get him a couple of days ago, but couldn't find a trail."

The Sheriff looks at you completely dumbfounded. "A panther?"

"Got into my shag, that ratchet beast," you grunt. "Why do you think I'm hacking up deer in the middle of my house?"

Finally, the Sheriff seems to catch on and shakes his head. "I'm sorry to hear that, but we have way more urgent business. The bank just got robbed."

You laugh as if he made a great joke, but go silent when the men just stare at you. "Wait, you're serious?" you ask, acting particularly surprised. "Who'd be dumb enough to do that?"

"We don't know yet," the Sheriff grunts. "I've got reports about four or five men, probably a gang that's been roaming around here for a while. There have been a few incidents with stagecoach and train robberies nearby."

"Are they dangerous?" you ask, looking back into your house as if you want to rip your hunting rifle off the wall right away.

The Sheriff lifts a hand. "Don't worry, we're already covering all the roads. There's nowhere they can go. We should have them in the hour."

"Oh good," you say with a sigh. "You had me worried there for a moment."

"Just stay inside and be careful," the Sheriff says, turning around.

He clearly wants to leave, but one of the other men clears his throat. "We have to check, Lewis."

The Sheriff sighs, turning back to you. "You mind if we take a quick look inside? We have to check all the houses."

"Oh no, not at all." You step aside, although your heart is pounding like crazy. You lay some good groundwork, now you hope that Arthur's men don't lose their heads, especially that Bill guy.

The government guys walk in briskly, but just like you hoped, they don't care to stay very long in the stench you created. One of them is coughing as if he wants to vomit right next to your door while the other gasps a quick "All clear." to the Sheriff.

Lewis nods at him before turning to you. "Stay vigilant. If you see something suspicious, try to get word to us, but I wouldn't advise approaching these guys. They're very dangerous."

"Of course not," you say. "You know me. Just shooting animals."

Tipping his hat to you, the Sheriff walks away, the other men following him quickly. You close the door, leaning against it from the inside. After a few deep breaths, you check the window to make sure they're gone before heading back to the trapdoor. You pull away the carpet, whispering to the ground. "It's me, I'm coming down."

When you reach the bottom of the ladder, five guns are trained on you, but when Arthur puts his one away, the others follow.

"How does it look?" John asks.

"You're in deep shit," you say honestly, still surprised that the infamous Van der Linde Gang could be dumb enough to hit that particular bank. "The Sheriff assured me they had all the roads covered, and they're checking all the houses."

"Nice touch with the deer," Charles says, making the others turn to him.

Remembering the bloody apron, you take it off but nod to Charles. "Thank you. That was the only thing I could think of to keep them away from here."

"So, what do we do now?" Javier asks.

"Getting the hell outta here," Bill grunts, "like I said from the start."

He looks to Arthur with hope, who in turn, watches you. His expression is still worried, but you don't think it's just about the trouble they're in. "What do you think?" he asks, and his eyes say even more.

I'm sorry I was doing things without you again, but I need your help now.

You sigh and try your best to think fast. "You're the first ones who've been dumb enough to actually rob the bank, so there's no real plan in place to deal with the situation. They'll probably search for a while and then regroup by nightfall, come up with a plan."

"Which would look how?" Arthur asks, and you can't help but feel flattered. At least he trusts that you know these things.

"Call in men from the nearby fort would be my guess," you sigh. "The sheer number of the military will give them enough of an advantage. We need to get you out before that happens."

"What I've been sayin'," Bill grunts.

"Shut up," the other four reply and Bill crosses his arms and leans against the wall, sulking.

Arthur runs a hand through his hair with a sigh. "So, what do you suggest?"

"I can't go out right now, or the Sheriff might get suspicious. I think it would be best to wait out their search, then I can have a quick look around. If we're lucky, I might have a spot to get you past the roadblocks, but I'd have to check if they're covering it. For now, you need to stay put."

You focus on Bill for your last words, and to your surprise, he stays silent. "Thank you," John says, "you're saving our asses here."

"Don't thank me yet," you say, and you can't help but look at Arthur. The thought of losing him over something so stupid is killing you. After what they did, getting shot on sight is probably their best bet. The richer the person, the less they like to get robbed. "I'll get you when it's time to go."

‐------------

It's been dark for a while before you head back down into the hidden cellar. The men are sitting on the ground, seemingly half asleep and exhausted, but their heads snap up, waiting for your update on the situation.

"I think I have a way to get you out. It's a little risky, but I'm sure it's our best bet."

"Let's go then," Arthur says, all of them getting to their feet.

You're about to head up the ladder when John drops back to one knee, only not falling over because Javier is holding him. "John, what the hell?"

"You're bleeding," Charles says, pushing John's coat to one side. "What happened?"

John grunts. "That guard outside the bank got me before I got him. So what?"

"Jesus Marston, why didn't you say something?" Arthur asks with a combination of worry and annoyance. "You could have bled out by now."

"Just a scratch."

Telling by the stain on his shirt, you don't think it's just a scratch, and since he just went down, you're not sure if he's capable of making a silent escape through enemy territory.

"Let me see," you say, heading over to John. "I know a little something about patching people up."

"It's nothing," John says, getting to his feet. You wouldn't call his stance stable. Even in the dim light coming from above, you can tell he's pale, and sweat is covering his forehead.

Arthur must see the same. He grabs John by one arm and holds him together with Charles. "Take a look, please."

It feels a little weird, but you pull up John's shirt, revealing a cut over his left hip bone. It's not overly deep, but fresh blood is leaking out. "I definitely need to stitch that up."

"Swanson can do that back at camp," John says. "Let's go already."

"Can he make it?" Arthur asks you with a look over to John that tells you that John is in for quite a scolding later.

"Maybe," you say, your eyes trained on John. "You'll have to drag him along, which makes it pretty hard to stay silent and avoid the police, but once you've done that - you should be back at camp right before his heart gives out."

John stares at you with wide eyes. "It's just a tiny scratch!"

"Then get up that ladder on your own."

Arthur and Charles let go of John, and he stumbles to the ladder, getting a foot on the first rung before he falls back. You manage to catch him, and Arthur quickly helps you to put him down on the ground.

"Goddammit John, you're alright?" Arthur asks.

"Dizzy," John mumbles.

"We can't take him with us like that," Javier says.

"We can't leave him behind," Charles immediately disagrees.

You admire his resolve, but looking at John, you don't think that they'll have many choices. "I'll patch him up, and you'll leave him here. I can hide one man for a few days. You can get him when things quiet down."

"But Abigail-" John begins before Arthur slaps his forehead.

"Shut up, Marston. She's probably glad that she doesn't have to see your ugly mug for a few days."

That's a harsh thing to say, but John doesn't even look offended, so you get up. "I'll get something to patch him up."

It doesn't take you long to clean the wound and close it, but with John bleeding for a couple of hours, you still don't think it's a good idea to let him go with the others. With Charles' and Arthur's help, you make a makeshift bed down in the cellar while Javier and Bill check the windows, trying to spot any police.

Charles joins them after you put John to rest, leaving you behind with Arthur. His eyes rest on you when you quickly check on John's bandage. "Is there anything you can't do?" he asks.

Since John looks pretty out of it, you shrug your shoulders. "Taking a cock, I guess."

Arthur chuckles but quickly gets serious again. "I mean it. You're unbelievable. Amazing."

"Keep your big words for after I got you out of here," you say, but you can't help that warmth spreads through your whole body.

"I'm sorry I doubted you," Arthur says, his voice barely audible as if he's ashamed to say it out loud.

You walk over to him and thinking about what's coming next, you pull him in for a long kiss. "It's all good. Let's focus on getting you out of here first, okay?"

"Sure," Arthur says with the sweetest little smile on his face, and you have to turn around and walk away, or you wouldn't be able to let him go.

A few minutes later, you're on your way through town. Lucky for Arthur and his men, your house is close to the nearby woods, and you make it there without being seen. Then, you head to an old mining tunnel. It's been shut down after a few cave-ins, and you hate the idea of Arthur going in there. The chances of being buried are much smaller than getting shot by the police, though, since they're still patrolling the outskirts of town.

Javier lights the lamp you gave him, heading into the mine first, followed by Bill and Charles. Arthur turns to you, looking like he has no desire to go next. "Are you sure you wanna keep Marston? If they find him-"

"Then I'll tell them he's a stranger I found wounded on the road," you say. "They can't blame me for helping a guy in need. And if they lock him up, we'll find a way to bust him out again."

"Like I said," Arthur smiles, "unbelievable. Extraordinary."

"Shut up and go already," you hiss, hoping that the dark will cover your embarrassment.

This time, it's Arthur who pulls you in for another kiss, his arms closing warm around you. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Make sure it's really safe."

Arthur tips his hat, finally vanishing in the mine, and you sneak back to your house. John is fast asleep in your basement, but his face has gotten its color back. You wipe the sweat from his forehead with a sigh.

Whenever you think that things might turn out fine, something like this happens. You're already pretty involved in the gang's business, and you begin to believe that John wasn't so far off. Maybe you should consider joining them. Somehow, the thought of leaving your home and going with Arthur doesn't scare you at all.


	7. Change

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was super stuck on this chapter. I hope it turned out alright anyway.

Over the next few days, you learn two things about John Marston. He's both extremely resilient and annoying. Despite almost bleeding out, John is quickly back on his feet, and it takes you a while to convince him that he can't just head out the door and go back to camp.

The sheriff came by your house once more, telling you to be careful out in the woods since the outlaws are still at large. You managed to get more information out of him, and unfortunately, the police are still looking for the bank robbers. You're worried that they might even find the gang's camp, but John convinces you that his people would be smart enough to clear out before that happens.

You spend your days trying to give John something to do during the day so he won't lose his head, and in the evenings, you sit together with a drink. You get a few stories out of John about the camp members, and he's all too happy to tell you embarrassing things about Arthur. You love to hear more about him from someone else since it turns him into a normal person with faults rather than the perfect man you made him out to be in your mind.

One day, you're about to head out to get some new information when there's a knock on the door. As always, John quickly heads down into the hidden cellar before you open up. Outside is an older man with gray hair, accompanied by two women. One of them has dark hair but bright eyes, holding herself like she won't take shit from anyone. The other woman is younger, with a soft smile and kind eyes.

"Can I help you?" you say, wondering if they might have moved to town and are looking for your services as a hunter.

"I hope so," the man says. "A friend of mine, Arthur, tells me you're the man to talk to when one is looking to hunt around here. Maybe we can have a word?"

Your heart starts beating faster when you hear Arthur's name. If he's sending someone from his gang, they must have made it back to their camp. "Sure, come in."

You let them in, and as soon as you close the door, the dark-haired woman turns to you. "Where's John?"

"Abigail," the man says in a warning tone before turning to you. "I'm Hosea; these are Abigail and Mary-Beth. Arthur told us how you helped our men after the robbery. I wanted to have a look around and see if we can take John back with us."

He holds out his hand, and you shake it before looking at Abigail. "Don't worry, John is fine."

You head over to the hidden door and open it. When John comes up, he doesn't look particularly happy. Abigail heads over to him and hits his arms and chest. "You stupid man! Almost bleeding out for nothing. We should just leave you here."

"Sorry," John mumbles, looking into the ground.

You're about to intervene, maybe tell them that John's wound wasn't that severe, but Abigail already throws her arms around him. John hugs her, running a hand up and down her back.

"Where would we go to get an idea about the current situation?" Hosea asks, and you have a feeling that he's trying to give John and Abigail some alone time.

You hold out your hand, leading him and Mary-Beth over to your table where you sit down together. "It's not a big town, so your best bet is always the saloon. Even the police are hold up there at times. You shouldn't be too nosy, though. Not everybody takes kindly to strangers."

"I see," Hosea says, and you can see his mind working. "I still want to have a look. Mary-Beth can pretend to be my daughter, and we'll make it look like I just want to be sure we can safely travel to my cousin's farm."

"Sounds believable," you say.

Hosea looks over to John and Abigail, who still quarrel with each other, just not as loudly as before. "You mind if we leave them here for a bit?"

"Not at all," you say, and Hosea sighs.

"We'll try to be quick."

He and Mary-Beth head out, and when you return to John and Abigail, they seem to have sorted out their fight.

"Thank you for taking care of him," Abigail says.

"No problem. John's good company." Abigail looks like she doubts that, but doesn't object. You point to the table, beckoning her to sit down. "Can I get you something? Tea, maybe?"

"Try some strong coffee instead, nothing else will do with this one," John grunts.

Although he doesn't sound friendly, Abigail looks at him a lot more affectionate than before and gives you a nod. "Some coffee would be great."

You brew a fresh pot and sit down with John and Abigail, an awkward silence hanging over the room. "So, you're Abigail," you say, needing to say something to fill it.

John's eyes grow wide while Abigail side-eyes him, probably thinking that he talked about her. "Yes, why?"

"After we got John out of jail, we made camp on the way back, and he said your name in his sleep," you explain. "Just made me wonder about the girl who appears in a man's dreams."

Abigail stares at you open-mouthed for a moment before her cheeks gain a bit more color. She gives John a quick look, but he's staring into the table, so she turns back to you.

"I get why he likes you," she says, becoming the one who's confusing you.

"Who?"

"Arthur," Abigail says, her face turning softer. "He's different since he met you, happier. Some of the guys made fun of him, you know. Look at him, off to meet 'pretty boy' again. But I'm glad."

Now you're the one staring at her. The thought of Arthur being happier because of you makes you giddy, and you're surprised that his gang members actually talk about you.

"I guess we get along quite well," is the only thing you can think to say.

"Whatever it is, it's good," Abigail says, persistence in her voice.

You fall into more silence and take a long sip from your coffee, racking your brain for another topic of conversation. You're not sure you can handle more of Abigail's confessions.

"So, how did you guys meet?"

John huffs a laugh, finally looking up at Abigail. She's smiling, and the look they share sure tells a lot about how they feel for each other. They might argue, but they obviously remember meeting each other with fondness.

"It's a silly story," Abigail says, making John grin.

You lean back in your chair with your coffee. "Then I can't wait to hear it."

John and Abigail take turns telling the story, and you forget all about the police and why they're even here. Sitting with John in the evenings, just talking, has already been so nice. Sitting with friends and chatting is something you longed for more than you thought.

The bubble of bliss pops rather quickly when Hosea and Mary-Beth come back, though. "It's worse than I feared," Hosea says. "Those guys won't give up anytime soon."

"Don't tell me I need to stay here," John grunts.

The words sting a little, but you convince yourself that it's nothing against you. John should go back to his people.

"We can hide you in the wagon. That shouldn't be a problem," Hosea says, and both John and Abigail look relieved. "But I don't think we should stay. I'm gonna talk to Dutch about moving camp as soon as we get back."

The others don't look too happy at the prospect of moving but nod along. You, on the other hand, are filled with a sudden surge of dread. If Hosea thinks it's dangerous for them to stay, they won't just move to another place in the area, they're going to move away. Away from you. Arthur had a hard enough time visiting you as it is; he won't be able to come if their camp is days away.

"I think we should go right away," Hosea says. "Thank you so much for your help."

He shakes your hand again, and all you can do is nod along, the darkness inside of you growing so fast that you can barely fight it.

"Thanks, friend," John says, clapping you on the shoulder. "Like I said, you really saved our asses."

He heads to the door with Abigail, but Mary-Beth takes a step towards you before they can leave. "We can't just go. We have to take him with us."

"You know about the rules," Hosea says, although there lies sympathy in his voice.

"But Arthur…," she insists but trails off as if not sure what else to say. "He can't come back here."

"She's right," Abigail says. "They should be able to say goodbye."

Your heart fills with joy, and you praise the women for their warmth. "I would appreciate that," you say.

Hosea nods. "Come along then."

You only take your rifle with you and leave right away, making sure that nobody spots John. Taking your horse, you ride alongside the wagon. If anybody asks, you can pretend that you're looking out for these defenseless folks and just try to show them the lay of the land.

The closer you come to the woods, the faster your heart beats. Between some trees, you spot Bill. He's watching the road, and Hosea holds the wagon for a moment. "I think it's best if you wait here. We'll tell Arthur to meet you."

"Thank you," you say, your mouth dry.

"Take care," Abigail says, while John tips his hat at you and Mary-Beth waves with a smile.

They disappear, and Bill takes a last look at you before venturing deeper into the trees in the direction of the camp, leaving you to wait in the silence of the woods.

* * *

It takes an eternity until Arthur appears between the trees. He's riding up to you, his face mirroring what you're feeling. You wonder what you could possibly say to him, but he already waves you along.

"Let's ride for a bit," he says, his voice empty of emotion.

You close the distance to him, and you trot along next to each other. Arthur leads the way, bringing you to a small cabin that you might have passed a few times on your hunting trips. You leave the horses outside, Arthur holding the door for you.

You've never been inside here, but it looks like an old hunting cabin that someone recently stocked up a bit. There's even a bed in one corner that seems decent enough for a night's sleep. You and Arthur sit down on it, silent until you can't take it anymore.

"So, your gang is leaving."

"Yes, tomorrow morning," Arthur says. "I have to go with them. I can't- I can't stay."

The way he says it at least tells you that he considered other options and that alone soothes your soul. "I understand. You have to stay with your people."

Arthur shakes his head while fumbling with a rough patch of skin on his hand. "I'm sorry, I really am," he says. "I never should have come back. I mean, I knew we'd leave eventually."

"It's alright, Arthur," you say, taking his hand so he won't hurt himself. "I'm happy about the time we had."

That's not the whole truth. You are happy to have met Arthur, but you feel anything but alright. Still, it won't help either of you to blame him.

"How are you so kind?" Arthur asks, his voice full of wonder.

You shrug your shoulders while Arthur keeps looking at you in a way that makes your heart melt. You want for things to be alright, just one more time, so you lean in to kiss him. Arthur lets your lips brush against his for a sweet moment, but then he draws back.

"I can't do that to you," he says. "Not like this."

"I wanted to be with you the second we met. I don't know why I've been so afraid," you say, stealing another kiss from Arthur. "I want to be with you, even if it's just once."

Arthur sighs, clearly not sold on the idea, so you lean in and press your forehead against his. "You promised not to let me die a virgin, remember? I'm holding you to that."

A short chuckle breaks out of Arthur, and he puts his hand on your neck, closing his eyes. "I did promise that."

He takes a few more deep breaths before kissing you, and this time you know he won't stop. He's holding your face in his hands, savoring each touch of your lips as if he'll have to remember them forever.

Then, he moves on, kissing along your jaw and down your neck while working open the buttons of your shirt. You let Arthur push you back onto the bed, and you close your eyes to focus on every touch. Arthur peels you out of your shirt, and his hands run over your chest and stomach, quickly followed by his lips.

You arch your back, a tingling feeling surging through you, all the way from your neck right to your cock. When Arthur notices how you push up, he puts his hand over your bulge, teasing you with a hard rub before opening your pants.

With every inch of skin Arthur lays bare, you realize that this is it, that you'll finally be with a man. For the first time, you're not afraid but excited. Your body relaxes, and you're able to enjoy every touch and kiss.

Arthur looks down on you with wistful eyes. "I'll miss that view."

You've never considered yourself particularly pretty, but it's hard not to believe Arthur. You sit up to throw your arms around his neck. "Let's make this worth remembering then."

You barely stop kissing while it's your turn to peel Arthur out of his clothes. He lets you take the reins, and you push him back onto the bed to crawl on top of him. His hot skin against your own is better than anything you've felt before. Just being close and kissing Arthur gets you hard, and it becomes impossible not to move your hips to rut against him.

Arthur trails his hands over your body as if he needs to remember every line and curve, and his touches feel like flames licking your skin.

"I want you, Arthur," you murmur, and when he looks at you, you can't help but smile. "I hope you got that oil on you."

"I might," he says, making you grin.

"Planning ahead, are you?"

A deep red crawls onto Arthur's cheeks. "Told you, it's just in my bag and-"

You interrupt Arthur with a kiss. "Hey, I'm not complaining."

After you give Arthur free, he fetches the bottle while you sprawl out on the bed. For once, you have no trouble relaxing when Arthur prepares you with the oil. His touches are careful, and he keeps checking in with you to make sure that you're alright until you urge him to move on.

You're so giddy, you worry you might actually spread wings and flutter off the bed. When Arthur rubs his cock between your cheeks, you hold your breath, and time stands still for a second.

It feels a little strange when Arthur pushes into you, just like the time he did it with his fingers. You're glad about that memory, though. Just like then, you try to relax, and Arthur puts his hand flat on your stomach.

"Breathe, darling," he says, and warm waves spread from his hand all over your body.

You take a few shaky breaths, and you and Arthur share a little laugh.

"You okay?" he asks, and you stretch your arms out to him.

"Come here," you say, and when he leans in, you put your arms around his neck. "All good."

Arthur gives you a small nod before kissing you, and you're so entranced with the way his tongue rubs against your own that it takes a while before you notice his slow movements.

The feeling is still a little unfamiliar but not bad. What hurts, though, is the thought that you won't have a chance to get used to any of this. You bury your face in Arthur's neck, breathing him in while you hug him closer to you in a desperate attempt to ingrain this into your memory. Every touch, sensation, and scent.

"Am I doing okay?" you whisper against Arthur's skin, and he chuckles, making you feel the vibration of his chest against your body.

He pushes himself up so he can look into your eyes. "Okay? You're goddamn perfect."

You feel the heat rushing to your cheeks and cast down your eyes, but Arthur won't let you get embarrassed. "Look at me, darling."

With the way Arthur marvels at you, you can't bring yourself to look away again. Under his gaze, every move and touch becomes even more intense. When Arthur picks up the pace, your lips fall open and you can't hold back the moans.

Arthur silences you with kisses now and again, but he's moaning as well, and soon, you're both panting with your bodies moving in unison. You drink Arthur's desperate breaths from his lips, and for every push of him, you roll your hips, welcoming him with your whole body.

The feeling of him inside you becomes less alien but something to be desired, and whenever Arthur goes faster or thrusts harder, he makes sure that you're okay.

It makes you wonder if that's what made you hold back for so long. The thought of being taken by a stranger in a side alley still makes you anxious, but this is different. You know Arthur and trust him. He makes you feel safe and cared for. You don't quite dare to think about it, but you feel loved.

The thought unravels something inside you, like leaves blown off a tree by a gust of wind. You can't help the tears welling up in your eyes, and when they run down your temples, Arthur freezes.

"Am I hurting you?" he asks, panic in his voice. "Do you want me to stop?"

He already retreats, but you pull him close. "No, it's alright. Don't stop."

Arthur cups your face with his hand, brushing away the tears. "You sure?"

"I've never felt liked that before," you confess. "In a good way. I've never thought that this is what it's like when I saw people be together."

"It's not always like that," Arthur says. "But with you-"

He doesn't finish the sentence, lost for words. Instead, he leans in and kisses you again. It's like you both took off the vail, tearing down the last walls of defense.

You don't think much anymore. Instead, you just embrace being with Arthur. Soft kisses, warm touches, and the constant rub of him inside you. The room fills up with moans and grunts. You wrap your legs around Arthur, his body as slick with sweat as yours, as he pushes into you with deep thrusts.

"God, that feels good, darling," you sigh, your fingers clawing at Arthur's shoulders.

You can feel him shiver under your hands, and he takes a few deep breaths. "Not sure how much longer I can do this. You feel too goddamn good."

"I don't mind if you come," you say, the thought sending a thrill through your body.

"I do," Arthur grunts. "It's your first time. You're not here to please me."

"But I-"

"But nothing," Arthur interrupts you, leaning in so that his lips brush against the shell of your ear. "You're mine, remember?"

"Yes, I'm yours."

"You'll be such a good boy for me now," Arthur says, his words broken up by the movements of his hips. "I want to remember you like this."

Arthur moves faster, with more purpose. His lips trail along your neck before he props himself up to look at you again. "I'm going to watch you come."

"Arthur-" you whine, the way he talks sending heat waves through your body.

"That's it," he says, his hips snapping forward, "come for me, darling."

Getting off has never felt like this, not on your own, and not even with Arthur. Having him this close, trusting him - it sets you free.

Moans tumble from your lips, Arthur's name peppered in when you begin to lose control. Your fingers dig into his skin as you come completely undone. For a moment, everything is too much. Your body goes rigid with your heart hammering against your ribcage, and you can do nothing but stare into Arthur's eyes.

Your cock is pumping between the two of you, warm come painting your stomach, and from one second to the other, all pressure is gone. You melt into the bed under you, muscles soft. When Arthur leans in, you barely manage to kiss him back.

"You okay?" he asks, and you wish you could praise him for how good he made you feel, but you're exhausted.

"More than okay," you say, "Jesus."

Arthur chuckles, and you fall into a half-sleep. You notice how he leaves you and comes back to clean you up. Then he lies down next to you, and you muster the strength to roll over so you can press yourself against his chest.

"Thank you, Arthur."

You don't understand the words of his reply, but to the sound of his warm voice, you fall asleep.

* * *

You wake up to Arthur nipping along your neck, so you roll over and kiss him. His hands caress your body, tracing your slightly sore muscles. It's a strange sensation to feel worn-out and happy at the same time.

The world outside is still dark, so you focus on enjoying your time with Arthur as long as you can. You barely talk, but kiss and touch, never letting go of each other.

Only when the sun rises outside, and more and more light falls into the cabin, you have to admit to yourself that time is running out. With the way Arthur looks at you, he must feel the same.

You both dress in silence and head outside, readying the horses. Then you walk over to Arthur, your heart heavy.

"So," you say, "I guess this is it."

Arthur nods, but a deep sigh breaks out of him. "I hate this."

He seems to be searching for more words, but when he stays silent, you're reminded of the other times when he left you.

"What if I come with you?"

Arthur's head snaps up, something sparkling in his eyes that makes you hopeful, but then he shakes his head.

"Remember how you said that I didn't have much choice?" he asks. "You were right. I didn't, but you do."

"What if I choose you?"

"I can't let you do that."

"But-"

"But nothing-" Arthur shouts, but his expression softens when you flinch from the sudden outburst. "I am what I am because I couldn't do anything else. Your uncle made sure you could. Do you want to throw that away?"

The mention of your uncle shoots like a dagger into your heart. You wish you could disagree, but Arthur's right. Your uncle sacrificed a lot to keep you on the straight and narrow.

"Guess I'm not suited for outlaw life anyway, huh?"

Arthur laughs, visibly relieved that you don't argue to come with him. "No, I said so from the beginning. Not a sweet one like you."

He draws you in for a kiss, and you hold on to him. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Are you Arthur Morgan?"

You feel how Arthur goes stiff under your arms, but his voice stays calm. "I am. Why?"

"When I heard about Dutch, those men also talked about you."

"Probably nothing flattering," Arthur grunts.

"They were scared," you admit, and Arthur searches your eyes.

"Then why aren't you?"

"Because you're a good person at heart," you say, making Arthur scoff. You take his face into your hands to force him to look at you. "You are. Promise me to remember that."

"Can't promise that."

You roll your eyes, but something else fights its way into your mind. "Can I ask you for something else then?"

"Sure."

"Remember me?" you plead, your heart aching with the reason for the request. "I can bare a lot of things, but I don't want to be forgotten. I want to sleep in an old cabin or sit by a fire and know that sometimes, you do the same, and remember me."

"I could never forget you," Arthur says, touching his forehead to yours.

You stay like this, holding on to each other until the sun comes up. Arthur is the one to finally let go of you, and after a quick goodbye, he rides off without looking back.

You've never hurt so much in your life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! 😄

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! :)
> 
> Say hi on tumblr if you want to. I'm happy to take requests! ~> [littlestarofthewest](http://littlestarofthewest.tumblr.com)


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